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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143819">The Lies We Tell Ourselves</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_panic_archive/pseuds/orange_panic_archive'>orange_panic_archive</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Let Me Count The Ways [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: Legend of Korra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Binge Drinking, F/M, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hotels, Male-Female Friendship, Non-Graphic Violence, Republic City, Roommates, Sharing a Room</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:06:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>52,939</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_panic_archive/pseuds/orange_panic_archive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When her boyfriend leaves her for her best friend only days after her father's arrest, Asami Sato decides that she's done. With Mako, with her friends, and maybe even with her old life, period. But after a night of blackout drinking lands her in the hotel room of a man she barely knows, a new plan takes hold. Why be alone when you can spend the week reinventing yourself in the penthouse of the Grand Republic Hotel?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iroh II &amp; Asami Sato, Iroh II/Asami Sato, Korra/Mako (side), mako/asami sato (past)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Let Me Count The Ways [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165019</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Saturday Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This takes place between Seasons 1 and 2, right after Team Avatar return from the South Pole. Diverges from show canon from there. </p><p>Usual caveat that I own none of the LoK content. As with most of my fics, Iroh is a bit younger than I hear they eventually made him out to be. Everyone else is the same or as close as I could guess.</p><p>As always, I love comments. It's also my first time doing chapter summaries because of the length, so feedback on that is helpful. </p><p>(barely) M for sex, language, and excessive drinking.</p><p>Apparently I only tell one story.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Asami has a bit too much to drink.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They were barely inside the door when she kissed him. The general’s lips were hot and faintly sweet, like he’d been drinking brandy or something with cherries in it. For all she knew, he had been. Asami wound one hand into his thick hair and pulled him down, closing her eyes and savoring the taste of him, the softness of his mouth. There was a simplicity in wanting, and in taking, for no other reason than that she was drunk and he was here. Her hand snaked up his chest and for a moment, just a moment, his lips parted a little. Then he grasped her hand in his own and pushed her gently away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” the general said, quiet but firm. Asami opened her eyes to see his dark brows furrowed in concern. The golden eyes beneath, so like and yet so unlike another’s, were less easy to read behind his heavy lashes. His other hand went to her shoulder and he steered her over to the nearby bed. She sat down hard on the red and gold brocade quilt and the room spun a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy there,” he said, returning a hand to her shoulder. “All right. In you go.” The general’s warm hands guided her to where he’d already pulled back the sheets. Asami sank heavily into the cool whiteness. The room spun again and she closed her eyes, nuzzling her face into the fluffy pillow. Somewhere in the distance there was a feeling that might be someone taking off her boots. Then the comforter was pulled up over her shoulders. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A gentle hand brushed a few strands of hair off her forehead as she drifted off. “Good night, Miss Sato.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sunday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Asami is rather sick and very, very confused. Iroh loves breakfast. He does not love manual satomobiles. Asami decides not to go home, so Iroh makes her an offer.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything hurt. Even the light through her closed eyelids. Asami squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to make it all go away. But eventually it was no use. </p><p>The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a tall glass of water. Someone had left it on the nightstand more or less right in front of her face. Except that wasn’t where her nightstand was. And it was the wrong color. Come to think of it, the entire<em> room </em> was wrong. Asami snapped awake and sat up fast. The whole room reeled as a bolt of pain shot through her head. At the same time, her stomach gave a dangerous flop. </p><p>Asami was just comprehending that she was most definitely not in her house when she felt bile gather in the back of her throat. Her whole mouth filled with saliva and she scrambled out of bed. She barely registered the young man sitting at the desk by the window as she darted across the room to a half-open door and shoved it wide. Thankfully, she’d guessed right about it being a bathroom. Asami dropped to her knees and slammed open the lid to the toilet just as everything she’d ever eaten in her life came back up. </p><p>She knelt there, breathing heavily, the sour taste of sick coating her mouth and throat. A moment later she pitched forwards and vomited again. A noxious combination of vodka and half-digested olives splashed into the toilet. </p><p>“Whoa there,” said a soft voice behind her. It sounded vaguely familiar, enough so that Asami didn’t panic. Something scraped on the tile, then she felt a hand gather up her hair. “I’ve got you.” </p><p>“Who—” she started, then heaved again. Her whole body constricted as she coughed up thick yellow bile. She sputtered and spit it out.</p><p>“Iroh,” said the voice. “You’re in my hotel room at the Grand Republic, remember? You’re safe. You just had a bit too much to drink last night.”</p><p>“Your… room,” she said, gasping a little. Iroh? <em> General </em> Iroh? Asami’s stomach clenched again, but this time nothing came up. There was probably nothing left <em> to </em> throw up at this point. She hadn’t eaten much last night.</p><p>“Yes.” The hand let go of her hair. There were a few more soft sounds and the brief run of the faucet. Then she felt a damp towel press into one of the hands she’d had wrapped around the toilet. “Here you go. When you think you’re done.”</p><p>Asami nodded and wiped her face and mouth. “Can I… will you give me a minute?” she asked. </p><p>“Of course.” She heard him stand, then close the door softly behind him. Asami flushed the toilet, then got shakily to her feet. She hiked up her short black skirt and pulled down her panties, sat back on the toilet, and cradled her face in her hands. <em> General Iroh’s hotel room? </em> What the hell had she done?</p><p>In truth, Asami remembered very little. She’d gone out by herself at about 11, first to Spirits, a high-end nightclub she and her academy friends had often lied their way into before she’d turned 18. She’d been there a while, knocking back 30-yuan martinis and dancing with whomever would have her. Who needed Mako, or Korra, or her father, or anybody? Tonight she was pretty, she was confident, she was rich, and she could make new friends if she damn well pleased. Eventually she’d left with someone, a brown-haired man whose face she couldn’t quite remember, but who most definitely was not General Iroh. He’d taken her a few blocks to a fancy bar, which may or may not have been the one in the lobby of the Grand Republic Hotel. There they’d had another drink, or maybe two, before he’d gone… somewhere. After that it all got a little fuzzy. Asami vaguely recalled an elevator and a firm hand on her arm. That was it.</p><p>She finished up, flushed again and stood. Her head pounded, but at least she didn’t feel quite so sick anymore. She washed her hands, then stared at herself in the mirror. She supposed it could have been worse. She’d fallen asleep with her makeup on, and her heavy mascara and deep red lipstick were now slightly smudged. Her long black hair hung limp around her face and her pale skin looked waxy. But at least she hadn’t fallen down the stairs or something.</p><p>Asami looked around the large bathroom, which to her surprise had both a shower and a tub. There were only the basic supplies though, some small bottles of shampoo and conditioner, q-tips, and the like. A small black leather bag, presumably General Iroh’s, sat next to the sink. There was only a single toothbrush, stored neatly on the small shelf behind the faucet next to a tube of paste.</p><p>There was no way to fix her makeup, so Asami took the hand soap and scrubbed at her face with the towel Iroh had given her. Then she finger-combed her hair into a side part and called it good enough. Next she squeezed a bit of the toothpaste onto her finger and did as best she could to wash out her mouth. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and it was better than nothing. She took one last look in the mirror at her naked face, her green eyes wide and staring. Then Asami sighed, adjusted her skirt and the wrinkled white top she’d apparently slept in, and opened the door. </p><p>General Iroh was standing just outside, the glass of water she’d left by the bed in one hand. It was the first time she’d seen him out of uniform, instead sporting a pair of gray slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt. Not that she knew him all that well. Or at least, she hadn’t, until last night. Asami had a sinking feeling that she probably knew him very well now. </p><p>“Here, drink something,” the general said, holding out the glass. She took it and sipped a little. “And take these.” He held out his cupped hand to display two small white pills. Asami studied them, then looked up. He smiled a little. “Just aspirin. It will help with the headache.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she said. She popped the pills and chased them with a little more water.</p><p>“I took the trouble of ordering breakfast,” said the general, and turned back to the desk he’d been seated at earlier. He sat back down in the chair and put on a pair of thin glasses, then started to read the top sheet from a stack of papers. “I know food is probably the last thing on your mind, but eating a little something will also help you feel better. Trust me.”</p><p>“General—” Asami started. The last thing she wanted to do was stay here and awkwardly eat breakfast with a man she hardly knew and couldn’t remember sleeping with. </p><p>“Iroh,” he said, cutting her off. “Please.”</p><p>“Iroh, then. That’s very kind of you, but I have to be going.” </p><p>He looked up from the paper he was reading, his gold eyes slightly magnified behind the glasses. “I don’t bite,” he said, the corner of his mouth ticking up into a little smile. “And you really should eat something.” </p><p>“I’ve already imposed too much.” That was putting it lightly. She’d passed out in his bed and thrown up all over his bathroom.</p><p>“But I’m inviting you,” Iroh said. He suddenly looked so earnest. It made him seem younger, somehow, or perhaps only less like a general. “And I’ve already ordered. It will go to waste otherwise. Why, do you have somewhere that you need to be?”</p><p>She didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Mako had dumped her. She and Korra weren’t speaking, and she’d been avoiding Bolin’s phone calls. Her father had been arrested and was being held in isolation without bail. The only thing waiting for Asami back at the estate was a gaggle of reporters and a big empty house.</p><p>“All right,” she said. Iroh smiled again and nodded, then went back to his papers.</p><p>“I apologize, but I need to finish this as soon as possible,” he said, not looking up. “I hope you can appreciate that anything pertaining to the Equalists can’t wait. I might have to make a few calls as well, but it shouldn’t take long. You’re welcome to anything in the suite in the meantime. Breakfast will be here in about 15 minutes.”</p><p>Asami had a sudden thought. “Do you mind if I take a shower?” At least she wouldn’t have to smell like General Iroh while she had breakfast with him.</p><p>The general continued to read. “Not at all. Towels and robes are in the white cabinet to the left of the tub. Take whatever you need.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The hot water hit her face in a delicious blast. Asami cranked it up almost as hot as it could go. She felt like scalding off a whole layer of skin. Maybe then she could start fresh. Be someone else, even. Some new woman who had never been left or betrayed or who at least hadn’t thrown herself at someone she’d spent perhaps a total of 24 hours with a few weeks ago. It almost would have been better if the general—Iroh—had been a complete stranger. Then at least she could have slunk away and happily never seen him again. Somehow the fact that they’d worked together, fought together, made the whole thing that much more uncomfortable.</p><p>Asami grabbed the bar of soap, then wondered briefly if she should open a new one from the bathroom supplies. Were they supposed to use different soaps? This was unfamiliar territory for her. Finally she decided that she’d already touched it, and did her best not to think about where Iroh might have put it and instead focused on the fact that it was soap, and therefore inherently clean. After doing her best to scrub herself raw, she quickly washed her hair. If she’d agreed to breakfast, she didn’t want to keep Iroh waiting. </p><p>The towels in the cabinet were white, fluffy, and absolutely enormous. They smelled faintly of lavender. Asami supposed that once you paid for a certain quality of room it didn’t make any sense to stiff the guests on the towels. She dried off, finger combed her hair again, then stepped into a long white bathrobe that was every bit as big and comfy as the towels. Asami was nearly 5’9”, but the robe came down all the way to her ankles. She thought, with some annoyance, that like most things in the world they were probably designed for men. Either that, or Iroh had ordered extra tall ones for himself. </p><p>She looked down at her clothes, which were crumpled in a pile next to the toilet. She wasn’t looking forward to putting them back on now that she was clean and comfortable, but they were all she had. Asami glanced down at the fluffy robe. To be honest, it covered a lot more of her than her clubbing outfit did. Maybe the modest, the <em> respectful </em>thing to do, was to stay in the bathrobe a little longer. She could put her clothes back on when it was time to leave.</p><p>Asami was nearly to the door when it hit her. Clothes. Clothes back on. She’d woken up fully dressed, having quite obviously slept in everything but her shoes. She’d also woken up alone. If she’d had sex with General Iroh last night, and had also been drunk enough not to remember any of it, what were the chances that she’d taken the time to put all her clothes back on afterwards, only to crawl into bed by herself? Asami supposed there were things she could have done that didn’t require removing any clothes, or at least any of her clothes. But if she hadn’t, or they hadn’t, what the hell was she doing in Iroh’s hotel suite?</p><p>She pushed the bathroom door open, somehow now even more embarrassed. Asami immediately spotted Iroh, not at the desk, but on the other side of the large room. He was leaning over a round wooden table, arranging what must be the food. He looked up at the sound of the door and gave her a little wave. </p><p>“Are you feeling any better?” he asked as she approached. </p><p>“Much. Thank you.” Asami hadn’t noticed until he asked that her headache had also subsided. </p><p>Iroh’s smile widened. “Good. That’s what I’d hoped.” He pulled out one of the white padded chairs and gestured. “Please.” Asami sat. Iroh pulled out the chair across from her and sat as well, then nodded to the spread. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I went for variety. I’m not picky, so help yourself to whatever you feel you can stomach.”</p><p>He wasn’t kidding. Iroh had apparently ordered one of everything on the menu. There was toast and jam, a bowl of hard boiled eggs, a couple of scones, bacon, sausage links, a basket of assorted breads, a block of thick yellow butter, orange juice, a pitcher of milk, and pots of both tea and coffee. </p><p>“Wow,” Asami said. She picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it tentatively. She still felt a bit queasy. “I hope you’re hungry.”</p><p>“Usually,” Iroh said. He poured himself a large glass of milk, then speared a few pieces of sausage on the end of his fork. “I also love breakfast, and live on a battleship most of the year. Forgive me if I indulge a little on my shore weeks.” </p><p>They ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as Asami had feared though. Iroh sampled dish after dish, munching quietly and seemingly genuinely content in not talking. Asami herself managed an egg after the toast, then a piece of bacon. She’d looked longingly at the coffee, but thought of her stomach and opted for tea. Better safe than sorry.</p><p>As she slowly sipped it she studied her silent companion. Iroh was much as she’d remembered him from that final battle with her father, though perhaps looking a bit more well-rested. He had somewhat short, straight black hair that fell across his rather tall forehead, his sharp jawline and thick brows softened slightly by a rounded nose and expressive eyes. At a glance he looked like a slightly older version of Mako simply because of their obvious Fire Nation coloring, but up close they didn’t seem all that alike. Or maybe Asami simply didn’t want to believe that she’d wound up going home with a Mako look-alike not three weeks after the original had kicked her to the curb. At least he was relatively handsome. Given the state she’d been in, she could have done a lot worse.</p><p>Speaking of worse, nothing else had come back to her about the previous evening. But it didn’t seem the kind of thing that should stay a mystery, no matter how uncomfortable it might be. Asami screwed up her courage. There was nothing left to do but ask him.</p><p>“G—Iroh,” she said. He looked up from his own tea. “About last night.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I wanted to apologize. For… whatever may have happened. Or not happened. I don’t know what you were expecting of me, but I can’t imagine it was holding my hair while I threw up.”</p><p>To her surprise, Iroh turned faintly pink. “Do you… you really don’t remember last night?”</p><p>Asami shook her head. “Nothing after the bar downstairs. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Ah.” He put down his tea and ran one hand through his hair. It immediately flopped back across his forehead. “And so you thought that I… that we… right. I see.” </p><p>“I did wake up in your bed.”</p><p>“Only one of them,” Iroh said. “There are a few. I think the penthouse is made for families. Or at least for more than just me. There’s a whole bedroom that’s not even being used. It’s a bit of a waste. But I stay here anyway because it’s expected.”</p><p>“Oh.” None of that answered her question.</p><p>Iroh rubbed a little at the bridge of his nose, as if thinking. Then he said, “I was working late last night. I went down to the lounge to take a break and ordered a drink. You were at the other end of the bar with Lieutenant Guanting.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>He frowned a little. “I see. Just someone I know, who it seems that you do not. Someone who I, shall we say, don’t very much approve of. I admit I’m a little relieved that you seem to have stumbled upon his company by accident.” Asami wasn’t entirely certain what that meant. She could imagine all manner of people that someone like Iroh wouldn’t approve of. He seemed like the disapproving type. </p><p>“Anyway, about when I finished my drink, Lt. Guanting got up. I didn’t know if you had seen me or not, so I came over to say hello while he was gone. That’s when I realized how much you’d had to drink.” Iroh gave her a searching look. “I hope you don’t think I was too presumptuous, but I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you like that, especially with a man like Guanting. I tried to buy you a cab home, but I didn’t know where you lived and you wouldn’t, or couldn’t, tell me. So I thought the next best thing was to help you safely sleep it off. As you can see I have plenty of space, and we were already in the hotel. I took you up here, and you went to bed.” The faintest blush returned to his cheeks. “That’s it.” </p><p>Asami simply stared at him. That was… maybe the nicest thing someone had done for her in months. All the more so coming from someone who was almost a stranger. He’d gone completely out of his way to keep her safe, and she’d rewarded him with nothing but suspicion and vomit. </p><p>“Thank you, Iroh,” she said, trying to put as much sincerity as she could in the words. She wasn’t sure what else to say.</p><p>Iroh smiled a little, looking genuinely pleased, then took a sip of tea. “My pleasure, Miss Sato.”</p><p>“Asami.”</p><p>“Asami.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>In the end they demolished the breakfast. Asami’s appetite returned over the course of the next hour, and to her surprise she put away another few pieces of toast as well as a second egg. Iroh himself ate steadily, plowing through everything in that deliberate, bottomless way that all tall, thin, reasonably athletic young men seemed to be able to do. She honestly didn’t know where he put it all. Iroh didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on him.</p><p>Asami reached up and stretched, then yawned before she could stop herself. She slapped a hand over her mouth until it passed. “Sorry! I guess I didn’t get much sleep.” </p><p>“Nothing to be sorry about,” Iroh said. He put the lid back on the jam, then stood and started stacking the plates. “Why don’t you lie down again?”</p><p>“Oh no, I should be going.” She should have been going two hours ago.</p><p>“All right.” He glanced down at her. “But it’s really no problem. Like I said, there’s a whole bedroom that’s not being used. I have to go take care of a few things, so I won’t even be here. You would have the whole place to yourself for at least a couple of hours.”</p><p>Asami bit her lip. The change of scene actually sounded nice. It was clear now that Iroh was only trying to help her, and if he wasn’t going to be here anyway… The truth was, she was in no hurry to go home. Not because she wanted to stay at the Grand Republic Hotel, but because her father’s house was such a difficult place to be these days. Every inch of it reminded her of him, of her life before, and therefore of what she had lost. Perhaps a few hours break before returning to that dismal reality wouldn’t be so bad.</p><p>“If you really don’t mind,” she said slowly.</p><p>Iroh brightened. “Not at all! I never make offers I’m not serious about. Here.” He dug in the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a small gold key. “Take this. The desk gave me two.” </p><p>He finished clearing the breakfast plates, then led her back across the wide living space. Now that she was a bit more awake, Asami saw that it really was a massive suite. In addition to the bed she’d slept in, Iroh’s desk, and the breakfast table, there were two full couches separated by a coffee table, a second desk, and several squat, comfy chairs and accompanying end tables scattered throughout the apartment. There was even a fireplace. The decor was a bit old fashioned, being mostly red, gold, white, and wood, but she’d been in tackier rooms by far. </p><p>“This is you,” Iroh said, stopping in front of a closed door. “Stay as long as you’d like.” Then, with a slight nod, he walked back to the desk and started to gather up some of his papers. Asami watched him for a moment, then opened the door. It led to a small room decorated in a similar fashion, with another red and gold brocade-covered bed and white, gauzy curtains. There wasn’t much in the room besides the bed, but just like the towels and robe it looked plump and comfortable. Asami shut the door and, after a moment’s hesitation, locked it behind her.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to miss you,” her father whispered. He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, his mustache scratching lightly against her skin. “My darling girl, all grown up.” When he pulled back, the eyes behind his round glasses were filled with tears.</p><p>“Oh, daddy,” Asami said, and hugged him. His black suit felt stiff as she felt him wrap his arms around her back. “Don’t be silly. I’m not going far.”</p><p>“I know,” he said. His voice sounded muffled over the top of her head. “Go on now. We shouldn’t keep him waiting.” He released her, then took her arm. With his other hand he pushed open the big double doors. The room beyond erupted into music, a familiar tune that Asami couldn’t quite place. The carpeted aisle in front of her stretched long and straight down to the ornate arch and the podium beneath. Yet the benches to either side were empty.</p><p>Mako stood alone at the end of the aisle, a little off to the right. Like Hiroshi Sato, he was dressed in a black suit and bowtie. He looked even taller and thinner from a distance, the cut of the suit hiding the wiry muscles of a professional bender. His dark brown hair was perfectly spiked above his thick eyebrows. He smiled as she got closer, then held out his hand.</p><p>“Asami,” he said as she took it. She felt her father release her other arm. “I’m sorry things got so messed up between us.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “But that’s all behind us now.”</p><p>“I really did love you,” Mako said. </p><p>“What?” Asami glanced around. The suits. Her dress. Weren’t they…? But the benches were still empty. “Mako, what’s going on?”</p><p>“Just not enough.” Mako shook his head slowly. His copper eyes looked almost sad. “You’re not enough, Asami.” That’s when she saw the knife in his hand. </p><p>“Mako—” she started, but his arm moved in a flash. With one smooth motion he buried the blade deep in her chest.</p><p>“Daddy,” Asami breathed, turning to try and find him as she fell. But her father was gone.</p><p>Asami woke with a start, breathing hard. The room was dark, and for the second time that day she had no idea where she was. Then it all came back to her. She was in a hotel. In General Iroh’s penthouse. And she’d had a dream, that’s all. Just a dream. </p><p>She peeled back the covers and glanced around the room. She’d thrown the bathrobe she’d been wearing on the floor, apparently having been too tired to hang it up somewhere. Asami realized with a sinking feeling that the robe was all she had. She’d left her clothes on the floor of Iroh’s bathroom when she’d showered, intending to put them back on after breakfast, but had never gone back for them. What a terrible guest she was shaping up to be. And he had been so kind to her.</p><p>Asami cracked the door, unsure if Iroh was back from wherever he’d gone yet. It would probably be better if she simply got her things and left. </p><p>A small black canvas bag sat just outside the door. She glanced around, but Iroh was nowhere in sight. There seemed to be little doubt that it had been left for her though. Asami reached down and pulled the bag back into the room, then shut the door again. Inside the bag, neatly folded, was her outfit from the night before. She pulled out her shirt, then sniffed it tentatively. It smelled faintly of soap. Apparently Iroh had had everything washed and pressed in the hotel laundry while she’d been sleeping, even her undergarments. Asami pulled out her clothes, then saw there was a second outfit beneath it. It proved to be a pair of loose-fitting black pants and a dark red t-shirt with “United Republic of Nations” printed in silver script on the front. Both still had price tags on them. She guessed that they’d come from the hotel gift shop. Beneath both outfits was a cherry-flavored soda, a granola bar, and a new, unopened bottle of aspirin. </p><p>Asami burst out laughing. But why did her laughter feel so much like crying?</p><p>She emerged from the room a few minutes later wearing the new pants and shirt. Iroh had guessed right that she hadn’t been excited about making her way home in last night’s club gear. She looked around again, and had almost decided that he must still be out when she heard the faint sound of a shower. It seemed to be coming from behind the closed door of the other bedroom. It must have a second bathroom attached. </p><p>Asami had already packed up her things in the little canvas bag. She glanced quickly around the apartment, then spotted her boots stacked neatly by the door next to Iroh’s. It was a little funny seeing them together like that, like their tall black boots had already made friends. She walked them back to one of the couches and put them on, all the while listening to the shower run. All of a sudden it didn’t feel right to be sneaking out. After everything Iroh had done for her, she should at least thank him again. </p><p>Instead she dug in the bag and unscrewed the cap of the cherry soda. It wasn’t all that cold anymore, but as she took a sip the sugary sweetness somehow hit the spot. Asami settled back into the couch and began to wait. </p><p>The door to the other bedroom opened a few minutes later. Iroh stepped out with nothing but one of the large white towels slung low across his hips. He twisted his finger in one ear, seemingly trying to get the last of the water out, and as such didn’t immediately see her. The large pink burn scar he’d gotten in the Equalist attack was clearly visible on his left bicep. Asami had just enough time to register that Iroh was somehow in as good a shape, or better, than a lot of the pro-benders she knew. His long, lean body seemed chiseled from some kind of pale stone. Then his eyes locked onto hers. They opened wide as he flushed a deep crimson. Then he darted back into the room. The door slammed shut behind him.</p><p><em>Oh dear.</em> </p><p>Iroh emerged a short while later fully dressed, either in the same gray pants and white shirt he’d had on earlier or an outfit just like it. His ears were still a little pink. “I apologize,” he said, a bit stiffly. “I’d actually forgotten that you were here. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”</p><p><em> He </em> was worried about making <em> her </em> uncomfortable? The poor man had looked like she’d caught him stealing state secrets instead of just wearing a towel. “I’m sorry if I surprised you,” Asami said. “I was on my way out, but I wanted to thank you again. And for the laundry and clothes and things, too. You’re beyond thoughtful, Iroh.”</p><p>If anything, his ears got a little redder. “Not a problem, Miss—Asami. I’m glad everything fit all right. I had to guess at sizes.”</p><p>Asami hopped up off the couch, then pulled at the pants a little. “It’s all so stretchy it hardly matters, but yes. They’re perfect, thank you.”</p><p>“How are you getting home?” he asked.</p><p>To be honest, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’ll have the front desk call a cab, I guess.”</p><p>“Would you like a ride?” Iroh asked. “As part of renting the penthouse, the hotel provides a vehicle. I have it at my disposal until I leave on Saturday.”</p><p>“You’ve already done way too much.”</p><p>“Really, it’s no trouble,” he said, taking a step toward her. “It’s like the spare room. I feel badly that it’s not being used. Nothing I’ve done so far has required driving. And if I’m not mistaken, you live slightly outside the city, right? I’m done with what I had to do today, and it would be nice to get out a bit on something other than official business.” He gave her a curious look. “As long as I’m not imposing?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Come <em> on, </em> you stupid piece of—” Iroh snapped the key angrily in the ignition. The satomobile stuttered, then died. He thumped his head back into the seat.</p><p>“Stop,” Asami blurted. “Just stop. What are you doing?” She’d been holding back as long as she could, but really. It was like the man had no idea how to drive.</p><p>“I’m trying to start the oldest satomobile in the universe that the Grand Republic Hotel somehow saw fit to assign to a prince of the Fire Nation,” he said through gritted teeth. “About which I intend to have a few words.”</p><p>“No, Iroh,” said Asami. “You’re swearing and flooding the engine and generally abusing the hell out of a beautiful piece of engineering that you clearly don’t deserve, prince or no.” </p><p>He seemed slightly taken aback. “Excuse me?”</p><p>“Do you even know how to drive, Iroh?”</p><p>“Of course I know how to drive,” he snapped. “I know how to drive modern, working satomobiles just fine. This thing is neither.”</p><p>Asami sighed. “This <em> thing </em> is an X-11. It’s one of the original high-end models. They were top of the line in their day, and are practically collector’s items now. It’s exactly the kind of sato I’d give a prince, actually.” She shot him a look. “A prince who knew how to drive, at any rate.”</p><p>“I know perfectly well how to drive!”</p><p>“Not this car, you don’t. Shove over, hot shot. I’ll show you.” Iroh raised an eyebrow. “Go on, get out. I’m driving. You’ve just lost your privileges.” He narrowed his eyes a little, then opened his door and stepped out. He walked around the front of the sato as Asami maneuvered herself over the shifter and into the driver’s seat. She adjusted the chair what felt like four feet forward—Iroh apparently had very long legs—then reset the mirrors. Iroh dropped into the passenger seat without a word and bucked his belt.</p><p>“All right, baby,” Asami said, stroking the steering wheel. “Let’s show the mean army man what you can do.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>She decided to take the long way around just to show Iroh up a little. After all, he’d said that he wanted to get out of the city, and anyway she had a point to prove. They sped out of downtown, the X-11 purring beneath them. But it was only when they got over the bridge that it really began to hum. In Asami’s opinion the old X-11s were wasted as city cars. They were a bit like thoroughbred ostrich-horses. Starting and stopping was a little bumpy because of the older-style shifting mechanism, but once you got them on the straightaway boy, could they <em> go. </em>She turned right off the bridge and headed through Tiger Ward, then up into the hills that surrounded Republic City. There was hardly any traffic up here, and with the clear weather Asami finally let it rip. </p><p>They sped up the winding highway that hooked around to the east, all the while climbing higher and higher into the mountains. At first Iroh had seemed a little taken aback by her driving, even nervous. But after a while she glanced over to find him looking out the window with interest, a broad smile on his face. One advantage of coming around from the north was that the passenger side got the better view. </p><p>She saw the sign for the overlook and almost passed it by. At the last second, acting on a whim, Asami swung the X-11 around into the parking lot. She heard Iroh suck in a breath at the sudden deceleration and smiled a little. The poor man had really thought he could drive.</p><p>She shifted down and eased the satomobile into one of about a dozen parking spaces, all of which were empty. Not many people came up this way outside of tourist season besides drunk teenagers looking for a place to make out. Asami would know. She’d been up here a few times herself, though for some reason never with Mako. Perhaps she’d finally outgrown it.</p><p>“Is something wrong?” Iroh asked. “With the sato?”</p><p>“Oh, no. But you said that you wanted to see the city, right?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Well, this is the way to see it. Come on.” Asami popped open her door without waiting for an answer. The wind hit her like a slap in the face. It was barely September, and still quite hot in the city, but up here in the foothills the air was already cold. As she, Iroh, and Bolin had discovered only weeks ago, there was already quite a bit of snow in the mountains. </p><p>Asami trotted to the low rock wall that had been built along the edge of the parking lot. Below them, the hills dropped steeply away towards the outskirts of Uptown. Republic City itself glittered in the early afternoon sunlight, its many towers making it look every inch the modern metropolis that its founders had dreamed of. You could see all six bridges from up here, too, each connecting the peninsula to the surrounding land like tethers on a floating dock. The day was crystal clear, and Yue Bay was only a slightly deeper shade of blue than the flawless sky above it. The statue on Aang memorial island was just visible in the distance, framed between two of the downtown towers. Asami could also see a row of tiny battleships set into the docks below the Industrial District, all that remained of Iroh’s fleet. From here they looked like so many children’s toys. So fragile. She wondered if that’s how they had seemed from her father’s bombers as well. </p><p>“Well that’s something,” Iroh said, walking up behind her. He braced his hands against the wall and leaned into the wind. “That’s certainly something.”</p><p>“Best view in the city,” Asami said. </p><p>“I believe it. Thank you for stopping.” </p><p>“No problem. It’s not often I get to show anyone the city.” The last person she’d shown around was Korra, and the Avatar had already been living in Republic city for a few months by then. Not that Asami wanted to think about Korra. </p><p>Iroh made a little humming noise. Then he said, “Would you?”</p><p>“Would I what?”</p><p>“Be willing to show me some of the city this week? I’ve not spent much time here, and I don’t really know anyone. Tenzin and his family, of course, but that’s about it.” He glanced over at her. “I understand if you’re busy. I wouldn’t want to impose. It was only a thought.”</p><p>Asami thought about it. She didn’t know Iroh hardly at all, but they had so far done well enough in one another’s company. He was quiet and polite, and seemed genuinely interested. And it would give her something to do besides sit alone in the house. </p><p>“No, I’m happy to,” she said. “I don’t know how interesting I can make it, but I’ll give it a try.”</p><p>Iroh chuckled a little. “I promise I’m not that hard to please. I like food, I like architecture, and I like walking. Honestly, you could probably just point me in any direction and I’d be fine. But it might be nice to have someone from here explain what things are when I pass them.”</p><p>“You had me at food,” Asami said. “I’m tired of eating alone all the time.”</p><p>Iroh furrowed his brows. “Why are you eating alone?”</p><p>Oh. She hadn’t thought about it, but of course he wouldn’t know. The last time she’d seen General Iroh was the day that Mako had broken up with her, but since they’d just met he might not have understood what was going on. Besides, they’d all been focused on taking out Amon and her father. And Mako and Korra hadn’t actually gotten together until after their trip to the South Pole. Iroh hadn’t even been there. The fact Asami and the rest of Team Avatar were no longer speaking would have been completely lost on him.</p><p>Something in her face must have given him a hint though. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s none of my business. But I’m eating alone as well these days, so I’d be very happy to eat alone together as often as you’d like.”</p><p>Asami realized with horror that her eyes were a little wet. She was <em> not </em> going to cry in front of a stranger on the side of the road. Instead she tried to change the subject. “You must miss your family.”</p><p>“I do.”</p><p>“I’m sure it’s especially hard on the princess.” She’d never done long distance herself, and couldn’t really imagine what being a military spouse was like. To be with someone, yet still left alone for so much of the year. </p><p>Iroh chuckled again. “Hardly. We love each other, but she’s at an age now where she wants me as far away from her as possible lest I burn every boy with eyes to a cinder. I am, as she pointedly told me a few months ago, ‘seriously uncool.’” </p><p>Asami cocked her head. That didn’t make a whole lot of sense. She didn’t know much about Fire Nation culture, but why would Iroh’s wife want him away from home so that she could pursue other men? And why would he laugh about it?</p><p>“You’re all right with that?”</p><p>“Spirits, no,” Iroh said, running one hand through his hair. “She’s not even 15. Of course I want to burn every date of hers to a crisp. Who wouldn’t?”</p><p>Suddenly Asami got it. “No, I meant your wife, not your sister,” she said. </p><p>Iroh’s eyes widened a little. “My what?”</p><p>“Oh!” She realized with some dismay that she’d simply assumed a man of Iroh’s age and station was married. He didn’t wear any rings, but that could simply be an Earth Kingdom thing. After all, the Water Tribes wore betrothal necklaces. Who knew what the Fire Nation did? “I’m sorry,” she added hastily.</p><p>He shook his head. “Don’t be. But no, I’m not married.” He frowned a little. “Actually, as of last week I’m not anything.”</p><p>“I didn’t mean to pry.” Suddenly Asami felt terrible. They’d been having such a nice time, and now she’d apparently dredged up a fairly recent breakup for no reason.</p><p>“No, it’s all right,” Iroh said. He looked back at the city again. “It was my choice. It will take some getting used to, but I think it’s the right thing for the both of us.” Suddenly he laughed, a sharp sound that didn’t have much humor in it. “Look at us,” he said, still not meeting her eye. “Eating alone, indeed.” Finally he turned to her. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami slowed down as she approached the drive that led up to the Sato estate. Sure enough, a small group of reporters was clustered in front of the black iron fence. They’d been hounding her ever since her father’s arrest, asking her everything from why she hadn’t known he was working with terrorists to the future of Future Industries to whether or not she herself was an Equalist. It was endless, painful, and more often than not made her feel even worse about a situation that was already awful.</p><p>“Is there a problem?” Iroh asked. </p><p>“I don’t…” she trailed off. He followed her gaze and spotted the press. It didn’t seem like they’d seen them yet. </p><p>“Ah. I don’t suppose you can simply run them over?” Asami looked over to see him giving her a lopsided smile. </p><p>“I’m afraid the limit is one Sato per prison,” she said. “Besides, it’ll dent the hood.”</p><p>“Well, we can’t have that.” Iroh craned his neck around. “Is there a back way in?” </p><p>“Nope. Just the gate.” Asami sighed. “So much trouble to get into a place I don’t even want to be.” </p><p>He looked surprised. “You don’t?”</p><p>She shook her head. “No. I don’t. There’s nothing for me there but an empty house and bad memories.”</p><p>“Then why stay here?” Iroh asked.</p><p>“I’m sorry?” Where else would she go? Her father had been her only family, and she was steadfastly ignoring any friends who might have reasonably taken her in. There was always the factory floor of Future Industries, but that wasn’t very private, especially with the ongoing investigation.</p><p>“Who says that you have to go back?” Iroh said. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but from what I can see of your house it appears that you have at least some means.” He shrugged. “If it bothers you that much, why not stay in a hotel for a while? I’ve been at the Grand Republic for two weeks. I assure you, it’s very do-able.”</p><p>Asami thought for a moment. He had a point. There was no reason that she couldn’t afford a week in a hotel, or even a month. She wouldn’t need to stay in a penthouse, either. A regular room or a small suite of some sort would be fine. No more dodging reporters, or Bolin’s phone calls, or the increasingly urgent messages from her father’s investors and clients. </p><p>Suddenly Asami stamped on the clutch. She threw the X-11 into reverse and floored it, peeling down the street in a squeal of rubber on asphalt. Iroh yelped and grabbed the door as she jerked the wheel, swinging the sato around in a wide arc. The gaggle of reporters looked up just in time for her to give them the finger through her window. Then she threw the sato back into gear and sped back up the street. </p><p>“That…” Iroh breathed. “That was very decisive. But didn’t you want to at least get a few things?”</p><p>“No,” Asami said through gritted teeth. “There’s nothing at that house that I want.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They rode most of the way back to Republic City in silence. Finally Asami asked, “Have you ever used a fake name?”</p><p>Iroh looked over from where he’d been staring out the window. It wasn’t dark yet, but the sun had already dipped below the sea and most of the automated streetlights had clicked on. The effect was rather pretty. “A fake name? No, I don’t think so.”</p><p>“Not even to get away from the whole prince thing?”</p><p>He smiled a little. “Iroh is not so uncommon a name in the Fire Nation. Plenty of people still name their sons after the Dragon of the West, the Firelord who Wasn’t. All I have to do is drop the title, ditch the entourage, and not stay in the penthouse. No one in search of Prince Iroh II is ever looking for Iroh the Completely Average. Why?”</p><p>“It’s not too hard to get guest lists,” Asami said. “If I stay at a hotel under Asami Sato, it won’t be long before the reporters find me. Then I’ll be no better off than staying at home. But any payment I use will have my name on it no matter what name I give the hotel. I didn’t know if there was some other way to go incognito.”</p><p>Iroh looked thoughtful. “What if it wasn’t your name or payment?” he asked.</p><p>Asami raised an eyebrow. “How does that work?”</p><p>“Well, what if you stayed with me?” </p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“I hope that I’m not making you uncomfortable,” he said quickly. “I only thought… well, there’s so much space in the penthouse, and it’s already paid for. Everything is in my name. You’d have your own room and bathroom, full use of the hotel facilities, and could go in and out as you please. I have a lot of work to do before I go, so I won’t even be there much of the time. And the times I am there, I honestly wouldn’t mind the company. Like I said, I don’t really know anyone in Republic City.”</p><p>Asami thought about it. On the one hand, it was completely insane. She would essentially be moving in with a man she’d just met, and living with him in an undisclosed location. General Iroh could murder her in the middle of the night and no one would find her for weeks, if ever. On the other, maybe insane was exactly what she needed. After all, everything else about her life had completely crashed and burned. Why try business as usual when business as usual was absolute shit? Besides, she didn’t really think Iroh was the midnight murdering type. She'd also passed out in his bed and he hadn't touched her, so he probably wasn't interested in getting in her pants, either. He seemed quiet and respectful, was obviously thoughtful, and under the circumstances, was probably an ideal roommate. If he said that he didn’t mind the company, the honest truth was that neither did she. Asami had always been more of a people person, and was finding that living alone was, well, rather lonely. </p><p>Iroh pressed his lips together. “It was just an idea,” he said.</p><p>“I’d love to,” she said abruptly. </p><p>Iroh’s face lit up, looking for all the world like she was doing him a favor instead of the other way around. “All right then,” he said. He turned back to the window, a lingering smile on his face. “So what do you want for dinner?”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Monday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Another breakfast. Asami goes shopping. Iroh goes to work. Asami vows to change her life, and Iroh finds it all a little too funny. That is, as long as no one is talking about him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was less disorientation this time, but that didn’t make it easier to believe. Asami was in a room, her room. Her room in General Iroh’s apartment at the Grand Republic Hotel. Where she was apparently now living. With him. Alone.</p><p>Asami was now firmly installed in the second bedroom of the penthouse, or as much as she could be on short notice. She’d picked up another t-shirt (“United Republic Drinking Team”—Iroh had made a face but she’d thought it was funny) and a pack of underwear at the hotel gift shop last night, along with a comb, a toothbrush, and her own tube of paste. At the last minute she’d also grabbed a book of puzzles from the basket near the till. It was all she had figured she’d need to make it to today. </p><p>The room itself was small and rather generic. It was mostly bed, and clearly meant more for sleeping than passing the time. Lightly patterned beige wallpaper stretched up to a high ceiling framed with ornate molding that seemed a little dated. There was only the one window, off to the right of the bed, and unlike Iroh’s room there was no attached bathroom. There was, however, a dresser for her things, a long mirror, and a few hooks behind the door. Most importantly, nothing at all in the room was familiar, or had come from the estate. There was no Mako. No Korra. No telephone. No press. Under the circumstances, it felt like a palace.</p><p>Suddenly Asami laughed. The whole idea was so ridiculous. Yet it was also oddly thrilling. She’d always been such a <em> good </em> girl. She’d been helping her father run the household since her mother died. They’d always had servants, but Asami was the one who’d made sure he ate healthy and took long walks around the estate. Once she was a little older, she had planned most of their vacations and holidays, as well as managed their social calendar. She’d learned early to be self-reliant, and had both an aptitude and an interest in the family business of satomobiles and other heavy mecha. On top of it all she’d also been an excellent student, head of her class in math and science and not too bad in everything else. She’d dated the right guys in school, who until Mako had all been the children of other wealthy socialites or public figures. Though she’d messed around plenty, Asami had never gone through a trashy, bad boy stage like many of her friends. And while she’d been in increasingly dangerous situations as her ties to Team Avatar deepened, she’d only been helping her friends. The idea that she, Asami Sato, had suddenly dropped every responsibility and thrown in with the General of the United Forces on a whim was almost too crazy to be believed.</p><p>But perhaps it had only been waiting for the right time? As Asami lay there in her new bed she recalled a book that she’d loved as a child. It was about a family of non-benders who’d been shipwrecked. They’d landed on an island in the middle of nowhere and had to invent everything, from a treehouse to sleep well away from the roaming tigerdillos to weapons to fight the marauding pirates. Eventually they’d been rescued, but some of the family had decided that they liked their new life of adventure and had chosen to stay on the island. The very first inventions Asami had drawn up were in anticipation of the time that she and her father might also be shipwrecked. She was pretty sure that she would have stayed on the island, too.</p><p>And now here she was. Her father was in prison, and she hadn’t exactly been on a boat, but she felt plenty cast away all the same. Iroh’s apartment was her island. It was time for her to start inventing.</p><p>Eventually. Asami rolled over and stretched, then burrowed back into the soft bed. She had no idea what time it was. She didn’t care. She had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and no one even knew she was here. She could spend the entire day in bed if she wanted, and no one could say or do anything about it. Not even General Iroh. They’d laid some ground rules over dinner last night, and one of them was that they would each keep their own schedule, no questions asked. The assumption was that they would do their own thing, unless they explicitly agreed that they were doing something together. That way, neither she nor Iroh would be left waiting.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Ultimately her hunger got the best of her. Asami crawled out of bed, put on the new gift shop clothes, and cracked the door. Unsurprisingly, there was no Iroh. He’d said that he had to work much of the day. She crossed the room to the bathroom, now “her” bathroom, and splashed water on her face. She still didn’t have any makeup, but at least she didn’t look sick. Another thing to fix today though.</p><p>As Asami brushed her teeth she noticed that the black leather bag and other toothbrush were gone. She hadn’t thought about it before, but why had Iroh had his things in this bathroom to begin with if there was one attached to his room? Not that it was any of her business. But it made her feel vaguely bad to have kicked him out.</p><p>Next Asami hunted up the room service menu. She didn’t need nearly the spread that they’d ordered yesterday, but the idea of someone bringing her breakfast sounded appropriately indulgent. That’s when she spotted the note. It had been left on the floor outside her door. In her semi-awake state she must have stepped right over it. Asami walked over and picked it up. There, in tidy print, read:</p><p>
  <em> Breakfast 08:30 2nd floor mezzanine? No pressure. -Iroh </em>
</p><p>Asami glanced around for a clock. She had no idea what time it was. She eventually spied one on the far wall. 8:42. </p><p>For a moment she considered ordering room service anyway. After all, it had only been a question. Iroh was having breakfast downstairs. Per their agreement she could join, or not, as she liked. And she was already late. Asami looked down at the room service menu still clutched in her other hand. Then she rushed back to the bedroom and grabbed the little gold room key off the nightstand. She left the menu on the bed. There was always tomorrow.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>At first Asami didn’t see him. She wasn’t that late, but for a moment she wondered if she’d somehow missed Iroh anyway. Then she spotted him on the far side of the restaurant, tucked into a corner by himself and nearly invisible. An unfolded newspaper covered the lower half of his face. It almost seemed like he was hiding.</p><p>Iroh looked up with a start as Asami slid into the booth opposite him. He’d apparently come straight from a workout. The collar and most of the front of his t-shirt was dark with sweat, and his damp hair stuck up a bit in the front. His smile was as bright as ever though. Spirits, he didn’t even look tired. No wonder he was in such good shape. Asami thought with some guilt that it had been a few days since she’d had any exercise herself. She added workout clothes to her mental to-do list.</p><p>“This is a pleasant surprise,” Iroh said. He reached across the table and flipped over a second mug, then poured her some tea from the pot in the middle. The table had been set for two. “I didn’t think you were coming.”</p><p>“Sorry. I missed your note. You don’t mind if I still join you?”</p><p>“Of course not.” He glanced around, then waved over one of the white-clad servers. “What would you like?”</p><p>Asami hadn’t looked at the menu. “Um… is there anything good we didn’t have yesterday? Or did we eat all of it?”</p><p>Iroh chuckled and lifted his paper to show his plate. “How do you feel about waffles?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami got ready as best she could with what she had. After a moment’s hesitation she bound her hair up in a loose braid, securing the end with a ribbon she’d found among the hotel bathroom supplies. It wasn’t how she normally wore it, but today wasn’t about normal. Today was the first day of her new life. </p><p>Because today was shopping day.</p><p>By the time she’d finished, Iroh was already gone. He’d said over breakfast that he’d be out most of the day, and not to wait for him for dinner if she got hungry. Asami didn’t mind. She liked the idea of having the whole day to herself, and she had a lot to do.</p><p>It was only a few blocks to the shopping strip on 4th ave. As kind as Iroh had been, Asami didn’t mean to live the rest of her life in clothes that came from the hotel gift shop. She had money, and she intended to use it.</p><p>Her first stop was the makeup counter at Oma’s. Department stores were a relatively new concept in Republic City, but Asami was a frequent customer and already knew what she needed. She walked in the big double doors, then strode confidently up to the counter. A young woman with short brown hair smiled as she approached.</p><p>“Welcome to Oma’s,” she said. “May I help you?”</p><p>Asami sighed and gestured to her face. “Oh spirits, I hope so.”</p><p>“What can I do for you?”</p><p>Inside the pocket of her pants Asami pinched herself, hard. Her eyes immediately began to water. “It’s just… I need a new look. I don’t usually wear makeup, but Bolin’s been eyeing this other girl lately and I… I...” She let a single tear drip down her cheek. It was a trick that she’d learned from some of the other academy girls when she’d been too young for her father to agree to buy her cosmetics. Asami wasn’t proud of it, but it got the job done.</p><p>The brown-haired woman’s face softened. “Oh honey. Yes, of course. Let’s see what we have here.” </p><p>“I need a daytime and a nighttime look,” Asami said. “But I don’t even know where to start. I’m so pale.”</p><p>“Nonsense. You’re beautiful, and he’s lucky to have you.” The woman eyed her critically. “You just need a little sparkle.”</p><p>The associate then proceeded to show her virtually the entire line of cosmetics. Asami feigned ignorance, insisting that she didn’t know what she needed until she saw it on her face. By the end of half an hour, the woman had essentially done her makeup for her. Asami glanced in the little round mirror and smiled. Her dark lashes stood out against her pale green eyes, the lids covered in a pale purple shadow. Her lips were now a deep cherry red. There. Finally presentable. This would save her a trip back to the hotel.</p><p>Asami bought what she needed, including a few new things that seemed interesting, then thanked the woman profusely and left. Considering she had essentially replaced all of her makeup, she hoped that the slight deception had worked out well for both of them. The makeup counter at Oma’s worked on commission.</p><p>Next she headed Piàoliang. It wasn’t nearly as large as Oma’s, but had a decent selection and catered to high-end clients. Asami was in no mood to skimp today.</p><p>She wasn’t sure why exactly it caught her eye. Perhaps it was only the color. But as Asami walked up 4th ave towards the boutique she pulled up sharp in front of a small bookstore. There in the display, nestled amongst the bestsellers, was a small white paperback. The hot pink writing on the front read: <em> The Lies We Tell Ourselves: How to Break the Cycle and Design the Life YOU Want. </em>Asami studied it, intrigued. She didn’t usually care for self-help books, but that certainly sounded like what she wanted to do. And there was something about the title. Lies. Asami had certainly been lied to by enough people. Maybe it would be good to make sure that she wasn’t one of them.</p><p>She emerged from the shop a few minutes later, <em> The Lies We Tell Ourselves </em> tucked under one arm. She flipped through it as she walked. It seemed to be a series of steps that would walk the reader through a process to break with any bad habits of the past, determine a future direction, and then take action to get there. The first chapter was titled, “Lie #1: You Cannot Change.” </p><p>The inside of Piàoliang was cool and quiet. It was still fairly early after all, and a Monday at that. So it wasn’t surprising that a sales associate jumped on her after only a few moments in the store. She was an older woman in a stylish blue suit with fluffy black hair piled high atop her head and a makeup job designed to make her look approximately 20 years younger. </p><p>“Welcome to Piàoliang,” she said with a slight bow. “How may we serve you?”</p><p>“I’m looking for some outfits.”</p><p>“Of course,” the woman said with a smile. At the mention of outfits, plural, she had perked up considerably. She clearly smelled commission. “Right this way.” She led Asami past rack after rack of clothing to a set of changing rooms near the back. “What’s your name?”</p><p>Asami thought of the book. <em> Lie #1: You Cannot Change. </em> </p><p>“Imasa,” she said. It wasn’t all that creative, but it was different enough that it felt like a start. Maybe the first step to her new life was as simple as that.</p><p>“And how long are you visiting Republic City, Imasa?” </p><p>Asami blinked for a moment, then remembered her shirt. Of course she looked like a tourist in that. She thought of Iroh and said, “Until Saturday.”</p><p>“So what are you looking for?” </p><p><em> May as well embrace it, </em> Asami thought. “Well, my suitcase got lost on the way over. So I need a bit of everything.” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami fumbled the little gold key in the lock and almost dropped everything again. She’d already spilled most of her bags in the elevator on the way up. She thought again that she probably should have let the porter help her, but she wasn’t yet sure how she felt about advertising to anybody, even the hotel staff, that she was staying in Iroh’s suite. The General of the United Forces wasn’t exactly an unknown public figure, especially lately, and information like that had a way of finding itself into the wrong hands.</p><p>As the door swung inward one of the first things she saw was Iroh himself. He was stretched out on one of the white couches by the fireplace, his bright red United Forces jacket in stark contrast to the pale fabric. Another stack of official-looking papers was balanced on his chest. An open container of what looked like steamed dumplings sat on the coffee table next to him along with a pair of chopsticks and what was unmistakably a cherry soda.</p><p>Iroh looked up from the top paper as she entered. She saw he was wearing his glasses again. “Are there any clothes left in Republic City?” he asked. </p><p>“Only ugly ones.” Asami tried to kick the door shut behind her and almost lost her balance. Iroh moved the papers to the coffee table and hopped up, then strode quickly across the room. He grabbed a few bags just before they tumbled to the floor. “Thanks,” Asami said. “It’s been slow going.”</p><p>“I’m surprised you can see where you’re going,” said Iroh.</p><p>“Who says that I can? This <em> is </em> the penthouse, right?” </p><p>Iroh let out a chuckle. “It wouldn’t be the first time you ended up here by accident.”</p><p>Asami rolled her eyes and together they walked to her room. “Just dump them on the bed,” she said. “I’ll sort through it later.” </p><p>“Are you just getting back?” Iroh asked. He returned to the couch and picked up his papers again. “That’s quite the trip.” </p><p>Asami let out a yawn. “No kidding. Shopping is hard work when you do it well. I’m exhausted. And starving.” </p><p>Iroh nudged the box of dumplings across the coffee table as she flopped down on the other couch. “Help yourself,” he said. “There are plenty.” </p><p>“Thanks.” Asami reached over and stuffed one in her mouth. She’d learned to take Iroh at his word when he offered something. He seemed to be busy though, so after a second dumpling she walked back to the room and returned with her copy of <em> The Lies We Tell Ourselves. </em> She may as well get started on her new life.</p><p>“What’s that?” Iroh asked. He hadn’t looked up from his papers, but seemed to be able to see her anyway.</p><p>“Something else I picked up today. It’s going to help with the new me.”</p><p>“New you?” This time Iroh did look over. He was frowning slightly. “What new you?”</p><p>Asami shrugged, suddenly slightly embarrassed. “Well, my family is gone. My friends are… my friendships are complicated. My house is so unpleasant I’ve moved into a hotel room with a man I barely know.” Iroh cocked an eyebrow. “No offense. It’s a very nice room and a very nice man.”</p><p>The corner of Iroh’s mouth twitched. “None taken.”</p><p>“But either way, it makes me think some changes are in order.”</p><p>“I suppose,” Iroh said slowly. “But none of those things have anything to do with you. They aren’t your fault. Why change yourself?”</p><p>“‘The only common denominator in all of your failed relationships is you,’” Asami quoted. She couldn’t remember where she’d read that, but it seemed appropriate.</p><p>“The book says that?” Iroh looked suddenly uncomfortable. Asami remembered with a jolt that he’d also just gone through a breakup of some sort. He had said it was his choice, but that didn’t necessarily make it easy. Spirits, she should think more before she said things like that.</p><p>“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “But I don’t want to just sit here and have my life happen to me. Not if what’s already happened hasn’t been good.”</p><p>“Hmm. What part did you want to change then?” Iroh sat up a little on the couch. He didn’t seem to be reading his papers anymore.</p><p>“I have no idea. That’s what the book is for. But I’ve already started. I even spent most of today going by a new name.”</p><p>“A new name? What’s wrong with Asami?”</p><p>“Nothing. I just wanted to try something else.”</p><p>“All right,” Iroh said. “What did you pick?”</p><p>“Imasa. It’s just Asami backwards, but it’ll serve.” </p><p>For some reason Iroh burst out laughing. </p><p>“What?” Asami asked. “What’s so funny about Imasa?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Iroh said, still chuckling. “But you could choose any name in the world, and you picked ‘I’m ass-a’?”</p><p>“Iroh, are you five? Besides, it’s Im-<em>ah</em>-sa, not ‘I’m ass-a,’ you twit.”</p><p><em> "Sure </em> it is,” Iroh laughed. His face was slowly turning the same color as his uniform. “Whatever you say, I’m ass-a.” Asami threw the book at him. To her surprise Iroh caught it, then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. </p><p>“Do you know why I just go by Iroh when I travel?” he said, finally getting a hold of himself. “Because backwards my name sounds like ‘hoary.’ You have to think these things through.”</p><p>“You know, we should change the name on the reservation," said Asami. "Instead of Iroh and Asami, make it Hoary and Ass-a.” </p><p>Iroh blinked at her for a second, then dissolved into laughter. “Hoary… ass…” he choked. Asami didn’t think it was nearly as funny as he did, but Iroh’s laughter was infectious. Soon she was collapsed on the couch, her whole body heaving as she giggled uncontrollably. It felt good. Come to think of it, Asami couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed with someone else at all.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Lie #2: You Know What You Want</p><p>This chapter came with a worksheet. “Name something that you think you want, but which you know isn’t good for you. List 10 of its qualities in the column to the left. In the column to the right, list the opposite. Perhaps this is what you really need.”</p><p>Asami frowned, then wrote “Mako” under the heading. </p><ol>
<li>Pro-bender</li>
<li>Tall</li>
<li>Hot</li>
<li>Nice smile</li>
<li>Not afraid of danger</li>
<li>Good firebender</li>
<li>Over-protective</li>
<li>Indecisive</li>
<li>Asshole</li>
<li>Fucking cheater</li>
</ol><p>“Iroh, what’s the opposite of a tall, attractive, over-protective professional firebender?”</p><p>Iroh looked up from his papers, then furrowed his brow in thought. They’d spent the last hour in companionable silence, the general reading his way through the remainder of his work while Asami flipped through her book on the opposite couch.</p><p> “Meelo,” he said finally. Asami shot him a look and he shrugged. “What? That’s not much to go on. Why?”</p><p>“The book says to identify the opposite of something that isn’t working for you.”</p><p>“Ah. I’m not sure looks is what they mean though. In my experience, everybody has a type.”</p><p>“Do they? What’s your type?”</p><p>“We’re not talking about me.” Iroh put his papers aside, stood, and stretched. Then he walked over behind her couch and studied the list over her shoulder. He let out a little snort, presumably when he got to the end. “Hmm. I don’t think career matters, either. What about something like over-protective, indecisive, selfish, and fickle? Then you can flip that to trusting, decisive, giving, and loyal. That makes a lot more sense, and it doesn’t land you with Meelo.”</p><p>Asami sighed, then scratched a big X through her list. Maybe she should have started with something easier than dating.</p><p>“What about you?” she asked, looking up. “What would you put?”</p><p>“I have the life I want.”</p><p>“You do?”</p><p>“Of course,” Iroh said. He stood up straight again. “I’m a prince of the Fire Nation. I lead the United Forces. There’s no higher honor than that.”</p><p>“I’m not talking about honor, Iroh,” said Asami. “The book is supposed to be about your whole life. There’s really nothing you want, nothing at all, that you don’t already have?”</p><p>“No,” Iroh said brusquely. </p><p>“But Iroh. Didn’t you… didn’t you just break up with someone?”</p><p>“That’s besides the point.” Iroh’s face had taken on a stiff, closed look. It was worlds away from the man she’d laughed with only an hour ago. Asami decided to drop it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tuesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Asami gets a workout, then a hearing. Iroh asks her on what is absolutely, completely, 100% not a date. He has a terrible day that is slightly redeemed by lots of cherries.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lie #3: You Are Too Old to Start New Habits</p><p>Asami woke up early, full of determination. Her grace period was over. It was time to get back on track. She put on one of the workout outfits she’d bought the day before and threw her hair in a ponytail. She wasn’t a morning person by any stretch of the imagination, and had generally done any training and fitness classes in the late afternoon or evening, but her book had suggested that starting the morning off with physical activity could set a good tone for the rest of the day. It was worth a shot. </p><p>Iroh was, predictably, already gone. Asami might not be a morning person, but it seemed like he was. Still, it was early enough that she thought she might catch him. As she made her way down the elevator to the fitness area, Asami thought she wouldn’t say no to another breakfast, either. They’d promised to keep separate schedules, but had somehow wound up taking most of their meals together anyway. Even if he didn’t say much, she was finding that she enjoyed the general’s quiet company.</p><p>The elevator chimed. Its big brass doors slid open onto a hallway that looked rather different from the antique red and gold of the rest of the Grand Republic. It was almost completely white. Glass double doors to the left opened onto a large room filled with various kinds of exercise gear; weights, punching bags, and the like. It looked a bit like the gym that Mako and the Fire Ferrets had trained at. A few people were spread throughout, making use of the various pieces of equipment. She didn’t see anyone who looked like Iroh though.</p><p>Asami almost turned in anyway, then spied a second set of glass doors further down. Based on the light shining through, these seemed to lead outside. Intrigued, she made her way to the end of the hall. The double doors opened onto a large open-air deck. The slightly padded ground had been sectioned off into three areas with walkways between, each lined with a different colored tape: brown, blue, and red. </p><p>Iroh was alone in the red-taped section, his back to her. He’d dressed in his own training outfit, today a gray t-shirt and loose-fitting black pants. As she watched he whirled and kicked out with one leg. A huge burst of flame erupted from one bare foot. Not missing a beat Iroh moved into another stance, using his momentum to push more fire out of his opposite fist. Asami followed a lot of pro-bending, and had seen Mako train up close, but she’d never seen a firebender move quite like Iroh. He seemed to dance in and out of each form effortlessly, every movement smooth and perfect. It was like watching some of the line mecha at Future Industries that now handled the tasks that required both power and precision. A marvel of engineering, flawless and beautiful.</p><p>Iroh kicked out again in a wide arc, spraying a half circle of orange flame across the front of the bending area. Then he stopped. “Hi,” he said, panting slightly. He pushed his wet hair off his face. “Didn’t see you.”</p><p>“I didn’t know they had a bending deck out here,” Asami said, walking over. “And I didn’t mean to interrupt.”</p><p>“It’s all right,” Iroh said. He trotted over to the tape line and grabbed a towel to mop his face. “Did you need something?”</p><p>“Oh, no. Just seeing what’s available.” She glanced around. For the moment they were alone on the deck. “I don’t suppose you need a partner?”</p><p>Iroh frowned at her. “I was firebending.”</p><p>Asami stretched a little. “I know.”</p><p>“And you’re not a bender.”</p><p>“Iroh, my mother was killed by the Agni Kai Triad. What makes you think I wasn’t taught to fight firebenders?”</p><p>“Not firebenders like me you weren’t,” Iroh said. “I’ve been training since I was four. I may not be a pro-bender, but in classical style I’m about as good as it gets.”</p><p>Asami put both hands on her hips. “Iroh, that is so incredibly arrogant I’m going to kick your ass on principle.”</p><p>Iroh looked slightly taken aback. “I didn’t mean—”</p><p>“Come on, general.” Asami raised one eyebrow. “Unless you’re scared?”</p><p>“I’m not—” Iroh ran one hand through his hair. <em> “Fine. </em> But I’m not going to hurt you.”</p><p>Asami grinned and stepped over the red tape line. “I know. You’d have to hit me first.”</p><p>They squared off in the middle of the firebending arena. Iroh bowed slightly, his face tense. Asami returned it, then braced herself. She hadn’t been lying. Her father had put her in basic self-defense when she was only eight, and as she’d gotten older the tactics she’d learned had focused more and more on countering firebenders. It hadn’t all been paranoia, either. Yasuko Sato’s death, combined with her father’s grief and considerable resources, had launched an investigation that had ultimately landed most of Agni Kai’s then-leadership in RCP-F, the maximum security wing reserved for firebenders. Increased security at the estate, the academy, and Future Industries had ensured there was never another attack on either Asami or her father, but that didn’t mean the many death threats they had received over the years weren’t serious. </p><p>“On my three,” Iroh said. “One, two, <em> three!” </em></p><p>Iroh rushed her, but Asami was ready. He was fast, faster than she’d thought for someone of his size. Yet his height could be a disadvantage. Iroh raised both forearms defensively, preparing to counter a frontal assault, but Asami dropped to a crouch at the last second. She twisted, ramming her shoulder into Iroh’s stomach. He let out a loud “oof” as their bodies connected. Iroh pitched forwards, partly rolling over her back. She heard a thud as he lost his balance and hit the deck behind her. Asami: 1, Arrogant Firebender: 0.</p><p>Asami let her momentum carry her forward into a roll. She felt sudden heat as a ball of fire whizzed just over her back. All right. Iroh wasn’t playing any more. Good. He’d be easier to predict if he was fighting like a firebender instead of like a gentleman. While it had taken years of practice, the essential trick to fighting firebenders was simple. Firebending required movement. Movement required time. So be fast, keep them off-balance, and knock them down. It was very hard to firebend on your back.</p><p>Asami righted herself just in time to see him rush her again. This time Iroh didn’t pull any punches. Fire exploded from his outstretched fist. He clearly expected her to duck, but instead she leaned sideways, letting the flames shoot just past her cheek. Then he was on her. Iroh threw out a punch and she parried with one forearm, surprised. Most firebenders she’d sparred with tended to rely exclusively on their bending. It was often a weakness, and one that the general clearly knew. Iroh’s other arm came up in an uppercut, lightning quick, but this time he did bend. The cherry red ball of fire flew just past Asami’s nose. Spirits, that one had been close. She didn’t think Iroh would hurt her on purpose—he was clearly trying to get her to fall backwards—but a fireball to the face would still burn her if she miscalculated.</p><p>Asami threw out a punch of her own, aiming for the vulnerable joint between her opponent’s neck and shoulder. She was just a half-second too slow. Iroh’s big hand caught her wrist in mid-air, wrapping around it like a band of iron. He was so <em> fast. </em>In one smooth movement he yanked her forwards, pulling her hard against him. She reached up reflexively to push herself off and he snatched her left wrist, immobilizing her.</p><p>They stood there for a moment, frozen, breathing hard. Iroh was looking down at her with a strange expression on his face. He almost seemed to be studying her, his warm gold eyes curious. His face was only inches from hers; she could feel his breath warm against her forehead. His body positively radiated heat—firebenders had a tendency to run hot. This close she could see the light beading of sweat on the dark stubble of his upper lip and what looked like a faint scar just to the right of his square chin. How had she ever thought he looked like Mako? The two men couldn’t have been more different.</p><p>“Do you yield?” he asked finally. </p><p>“Iroh, I—” Asami started. Then she let herself drop, kicking out one leg as she did so. Iroh let out a yelp of surprise as his legs were swept out from under him. He hit the deck with a thud, landing more or less on his back and releasing her wrists. Asami was on him in a flash. She threw one leg over his stomach and pressed her forearm across his throat. Not enough to restrict his breathing; just enough to let him know that she could. Iroh immediately stopped moving.</p><p>“Cheater,” he panted.</p><p>“You have 60lbs and four inches on me, Iroh,” Asami said, still breathing hard. “Of course I’m going to cheat. I said I know how to fight firebenders. I didn’t say I didn’t fight dirty. Yield?”</p><p>For a moment Iroh said nothing. The big vein in his neck thudded just beneath her skin. This close she could smell him; not just his breath, but all of him, the scent of skin and sweat and damp cotton and something else, a strong, heady odor that must just be him. </p><p>“Yield,” Iroh said. He let out a heavy sigh. “You’re a dirty cheater, Asami, but I yield.”</p><p>Asami smiled and moved her arm off his neck. She rolled over and onto her back on the deck, slowly catching her breath. “Breakfast?” she asked.</p><p>“Not quite. That was just the second part of the workout.”</p><p>“The… second part?” Asami turned her head back to Iroh. He’d propped himself up on his elbows and was looking down at her. She hadn’t realized he’d done more than firebending this morning, let alone that he wanted to do more. </p><p>Iroh wiped his face with the back of his arm and nodded. “Yep. But it’s the fun part.” He smiled at her. “Want to really earn your waffles?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami almost collapsed in the shower. Her legs felt like jelly. She’d never understood runners, or running, let alone the kinds of quasi-insane masochists who actually <em> liked </em> it. Spirits, Iroh said they’d only gone a mile, but it felt like she’d been death-marched all the way to Ba Sing Se. Yet her new roommate clearly had no such trouble. He’d treated the whole thing like a treat, as if the previous hour and a half he’d spent lifting weights and bending fire had all been so he could earn the pleasure of a run. The last quarter mile Iroh had actually jogged backwards, shouting mock United Forces commands like, “pick it up, soldier!” and “I’ve seen faster turtle ducks!” with an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face. She guessed he was getting her back for pinning him earlier. Asshole.</p><p>She emerged from her room to see Iroh once again dressed in his United Forces uniform. He was seated at the second desk, the one he didn’t seem to use, a telephone receiver pressed to one ear.</p><p>“No!” Iroh wasn’t yelling, but it was close. “Absolutely not. Yes, I’m 100% confident.” A pause. “I can’t tell you. You’ll have to trust me.” Asami heard a few muffled sounds, presumably the other half of the conversation. “She’s not her father, Tenzin!” Iroh almost shouted again. “If my judgement isn’t good enough for the council, then you can damned well fire me.” More murmured conversation on the other end. “No, I… tell Lin that’s not necessary. What if… what if I told you that I knew where she was?” Another pause. “Yes, she’s perfectly safe. She just needed a break. No. No, Tenzin. I gave her my word. Yes, I can get the message to her. She wants to see the Equalists go down as much as anybody, maybe more.” A few more whispered words. “Thank you. She’ll be there, I promise.”</p><p>Iroh hung up the phone and rubbed at his face. </p><p>“You didn’t have to do that,” Asami said. It was fairly obvious who they had been talking about.</p><p>“I gave you my word,” Iroh said. “I don’t break promises, Asami.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a little smirk. “Besides, what kind of soldier would I be if I gave up my friends during an interrogation?”</p><p>Asami started a little at that. She hadn’t realized that he considered them friends. She thought of Iroh’s red face as he laughed himself silly over “hoary ass,” the brightness of his eyes as he’d yelled at her to pick up the pace, and smiled to herself. They were certainly acting like friends. Why fight it? It wasn’t like she had any others at the moment.</p><p>“So what did Tenzin want?” she asked.</p><p>Iroh didn’t answer immediately. “I’m afraid it won’t be fun,” he said at last. “But we need you. The Republic is beginning the case against the captured Equalists. There’s to be a hearing on Thursday. It’s not a trial; it’s just procedural. Your statement is needed, as is mine and Bolin’s, about what happened at the hangar in the mountains.” He paused again, then said, “It’s likely the first of several. Tenzin says Thursday will only be about the hangar though.”</p><p>Asami swallowed hard. “My father…”</p><p>“Won’t be there,” Iroh said quickly. “You’re just giving a statement. And I’ll be there as well. We can even go together.”</p><p>“I can do that.” He was right, it wouldn’t be fun to relive the battle with her father again, but she’d already given informal statements to the police. “Just tell me where and when.”</p><p>To her surprise Iroh looked down, suddenly not meeting her eye. “There’s… something else, too.”</p><p>Asami cocked her head. What could be so much worse than the hearing that he wouldn’t even look at her?</p><p>“I have a favor to ask,” he said, mostly to his feet. “Well, not a favor exactly. Maybe. A question.”</p><p>“What is it?” After everything he’d done for her this week, there was very little Asami thought she’d say no to.</p><p>Iroh sighed heavily. “There's dinner tomorrow night. The city council is throwing it. It’s a celebration, of sorts. Apparently I’m required.”</p><p>“What’s the favor?” Asami asked.</p><p>Iroh rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. “It’s white tie. That’s very fancy.”</p><p>“I know what white tie is.” Her father had thrown a white tie New Years party for as long as she could remember. He liked the sense of occasion. With a jolt Asami realized there wouldn’t be one this year.</p><p>“Then you’ll know it’s not only fancy, but formal. And I… well…” He trailed off. Suddenly he looked up. “If I tell you something, can you keep it in confidence?”</p><p>“Of course, Iroh.” </p><p>“The City Council is strongly considering disbanding,” he said. “Amon wasn’t right, but he did highlight the need for certain reforms. Tenzin feels, and others are coming around, that the balanced council model is inherently flawed. He wants to move to a different governance model entirely. There’s talk of a president, and of holding elections as soon as January.”</p><p>Asami was shocked. The council? Disbanding? Because they <em> agreed </em>with the Equalists? “Iroh, I don’t know what to say. I didn’t think the council was so bad as all that.”</p><p>Iroh nodded. “It was a surprise to me as well. But also smart politically. It shows a response to the demands of the Equalists without acknowledging them at all. If the citizens can vote, they can elect a non-bender on their own. That will kick the legs out from under any possible resurgence. One man has already stepped forward and expressed his interest, a certain Raiko. I’ll be seated with him at the dinner.”</p><p>“You haven’t told me what the favor is though.”</p><p>“Would you come with me?” Iroh asked. “Just as a friend,” he added hastily. “You’ve been invited, too, except that no one can find you. So there would be nothing implied. You’d just be… sitting with me, I suppose. It will be Raiko and his wife, and if I have someone I know by me as well, someone not on the council, it will seem more social and less like I’m vetting him.”</p><p>“But you’re vetting him.”</p><p>“Of course I am.”</p><p>“What do I have to do?”</p><p>“Nothing,” Iroh said. “Wear a fancy dress and be yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami heard the door slam. She’d been dozing in her room, enjoying a few hours of utter laziness after a day of mostly the same.  She might be embracing new habits, but doing even a third of what Iroh called his “basic” workout had left her exhausted. Not that she hadn’t been productive. Lie #4 was, “You Don’t Deserve It,” so after Iroh had gone to work Asami had spent four full hours at Hallelujah, an all-inclusive—and exclusive—spa near the waterfront. In addition to the hot and cold baths, she’d sprung for a massage, facial, and mani-pedi. After all, if she was going to a white tie event tomorrow night, she needed to look her best. </p><p>Another door slammed. Asami got out of bed, glanced in the long mirror to make sure she was halfway presentable, then walked out into the main living area. There was no sign of Iroh, but his bedroom door was closed. His boots weren’t by the door though. <em> Hmm.  </em></p><p>Asami waited for a moment to see if he’d come out, then went back into her room and got her book of puzzles. She’d started in on them earlier. They were a combination of word, number, and logic puzzles in varying degrees of difficulty. But after a few minutes it became clear that her heart wasn’t in it. Asami couldn’t concentrate, and kept reading the same words over and over again between looks at Iroh’s door. </p><p>It really wasn’t her business. </p><p>It really, really wasn’t.</p><p>She closed the puzzle book with a snap and walked over to the door. She hesitated for just a moment, then rapped lightly with one finger. “Iroh?” There was no answer. “Iroh, are you okay?”</p><p>“Fine,” came a muffled voice. </p><p>“Is there anything I can get you?”</p><p>“No.” His voice had a clipped quality to it that she hadn’t heard before. Asami closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and turned the knob. He hadn’t locked it. </p><p>Iroh sat on the far side of the bed, his back to the door. He was still in his full uniform, bent forwards, his face in his hands. “Please leave,” he said. His voice was a little hoarse.</p><p>“Iroh, what happened?” She wasn’t just going to leave him like this. </p><p>“I happened,” he said. </p><p>Asami moved quietly into the room. It was a little bigger than hers, but otherwise much the same. She walked around to the other side of the bed, then sat down next to him. He didn’t react.</p><p>“I don’t understand. Can I get someone? Are you hurt?” He was certainly acting like it. She was starting to wonder if the hotel had a healer. </p><p>“Not enough,” Iroh muttered. “Not nearly enough.”</p><p>That didn’t make any sense. Not hurt enough? Asami tentatively put a hand on his back. “Please, Iroh. I want to help. But I can’t if you don’t tell me what happened.”</p><p>Iroh huffed out a breath, then rubbed at his eyes. He still wouldn’t look at her. “Inspections,” he said quietly. “That’s what I did today. Inspections.”</p><p>“Inspections of what?”</p><p>“The fleet. Or what’s left of it. UF engineers walked me through the damage. Every blow to every vessel. Not including the two that sank entirely. The damage… it’s quite extensive. I was presented certain figures. Costs, repairs. And it was my decision. We’re going to sink all but one of them.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Iroh.” She couldn't imagine how hard that must have been for him. Asami might not be in the United Forces, but she knew what it was to love your mecha. Not to mention that Iroh had lived on those ships, probably for years. In a lot of ways, it was like deciding to blow up your home.</p><p>“Then we toured KHA.” Her heart sank. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. Katara Healing Authority was Republic City’s largest healing center. It was where all of the United Forces troops injured in the attack were being treated. </p><p>“I’ve already been, of course,” Iroh said. “Friends, close subordinates mostly. But today I visited every man and woman the United Forces still housed there. I’m a firebender. I know what fire can do to a body, and I have the scars to prove it. And I’ve been in the Forces since I was 17. I’ve fought… I’m no coward… but Asami…” Iroh’s voice caught a little. Then he finally looked at her. Even in the semi-darkness she could see his eyes were rimmed with red. He looked haggard, as if he’d aged 10 years in only a day. “Asami, I’ve never seen <em> anything </em> like what I saw today.” </p><p>“Oh, Iroh.” She didn’t know what else to say. </p><p>“And it’s all my fault.” </p><p><em>What?</em> “I don’t understand. How is any of it your fault? You led the defense of the city. You brought down all those planes. Iroh, you’re a hero.”</p><p>“I missed the fucking mines!” Iroh spat. “I missed the goddamned fucking mines! And then everything… everything…” He ground the heel of one hand into his face. She heard his breath hitch. “I should have seen the trap,” he whispered. “I should have seen it, and I didn’t.”</p><p>Asami reached over and grasped his free hand. He gripped it hard. “Me, too,” she said. </p><p>Iroh looked up. “What?”</p><p>“Me too, Iroh. My father developed that mecha right under my nose. The planes, the mines, all those tanks. Chief Beifong thinks he’d been arming the Equalists for up to a year. I missed it all. And when Korra first suspected him, I threw it in her face. If I’d paid a little more attention, loved him a little less blindly, or just been less trusting, no one would have gotten hurt at all. Sometimes I wonder if I even could have talked him out of it.” </p><p>Iroh shook his head. “The worst outcome of all is if you used this as a reason to be less trusting. Let alone to love less blindly.”</p><p>“Why? If it would have saved all those lives?”</p><p>He squeezed her hand. “Because without those things, Asami, what are we even protecting?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They sat on the rim of the big fountain in the center of Republic Square. It was well after dark, but the lights of City Hall and the police station made it easy enough to see by. A few people strode by in the still warm evening, at this hour mostly couples out for a nighttime stroll.</p><p>“What’s with all the cherries?” she asked.</p><p>Iroh looked down at his cup and colored a little. His scoop of chocolate ice cream was all but invisible underneath the pile of small red fruits. “What’s wrong with cherries?”</p><p>“I never said anything was wrong with them,” Asami said. “But it keeps coming up. You bought me cherry soda for my hangover, and last night you had one yourself. It’s not that common a flavor. And now this.” She nodded to his buried ice cream. “I’m just curious.”</p><p>Iroh shrugged a little. “We had cherry trees in the central courtyard growing up. Still do. Starting in early summer we’d have cherry everything. Cherry tarts, cherry ices, cherry scones, roasted wooly-pig chops with cherry sauce, chocolate-covered cherries. You might think I’d be sick of it by now, but I’ve always loved the taste." He looked down at his ice cream and smiled a little. It was good to see him finally smile. "I saw the shop had real Fire Nation cherries and I guess I went a little overboard. I suppose it reminds me of home.”</p><p>Asami thought about that. She took a bite of her own ice cream—pistachio, and completely cherry-free—and tried to recall if there were any flavors that reminded her of home. But all she could come up with were smells. The faint, rich smell of her father’s pipe tobacco, which he only allowed himself to smoke in his office. The slightly fusty smell of the long hallway carpets on cleaning day. The smell of sawdust and engine oil from the floor of the workshop. The sharp new leather scent of a satomobile fresh off the line. </p><p>Lie #5: You Are Geographically Restricted</p><p>“Can I try a Fire Nation cherry?” she asked. Iroh tipped his cup towards her and she scooped one out with her spoon. It was sweet and juicy, with just a hint of chocolate. But the taste didn’t remind her of anywhere at all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Wednesday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iroh solves a puzzle. Asami does some errands. A dinner, a dance, and several misunderstandings.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Iroh looked over her shoulder from the back of the couch as he fastened his cuffs. “Thirty-seven.”</p><p>“What?” Asami looked up at him. His hair was still wet from the shower. They’d worked out again together that morning before breakfast, Asami opting for a brief kickboxing routine while he used the weights, then Iroh dragging her on a slightly longer run. Apparently his usual short run was “40 ship-laps,” or three miles. Short. The man was insane.</p><p>“Thirty-seven,” he said again. He nodded slightly to the book of puzzles open on her lap. “I’m sorry, but you seemed stuck.” The margins of the number puzzle were full of Asami’s tiny scrawl. She’d been trying to crack this one for nearly fifteen minutes, adding up the numbers this way and that, but nothing had made any sense to her.</p><p>“It can’t be thirty-seven, Iroh,” she said. She turned back to the puzzle and pointed with her pencil. “Look, it has to be a multiple of four, but also the sum of—”</p><p>“No, no, no.” Iroh walked around to the front of the couch and sat down next to her. “You’re doing it wrong. It’s not a math puzzle. Look, this is a Republic City puzzle book, right?” He took the pencil from her and tapped a series of numbers that ran from left to right. “See? One, five, eight, 12, 15, 23, 26, 30, 34, blank, 41.” </p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Iroh smiled at her. “What if I said 37th instead of 37?”</p><p>Asami’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh! That’s so <em> dirty. </em>But Iroh, you’re not even from Republic City! How the hell did you know?”</p><p>He laughed and stood. “I told you, I like architecture. Republic City has the oldest elevated train system in the world. Riding it was one of the first things I did when I came here. A lot of the stations are quite beautiful.” The numbers had, in fact, represented not a numerical sequence but rather the train stops on the line that ran north-south across the city. The missing number was the 37th street station.</p><p>“Sure, but how did you remember them all?”</p><p>Iroh shrugged. “I’m a general. Memorizing topography is kind of what I do.”</p><p>Asami closed the puzzle book. “I think that’s enough of that for now. I claim defeat.” She placed the puzzles on the little table with the lamp, then picked up <em> The Lies We Tell Ourselves. </em></p><p>“You’re still doing that?” Iroh asked. He sat down again, this time on the opposite couch, and pulled on one tall black boot. “I thought we decided there was nothing wrong with the old you? That the things you are trying to change are circumstantial?” </p><p>“That doesn’t mean there’s no room for improvement,” Asami said. “Unless you’re Prince Iroh of the Perfect Life, I suppose.” She waggled the book at him. “This is for the rest of us.”</p><p>Iroh sighed a little. “I never said that my life is perfect.” He stood and went to put on the uniform jacket that he’d slung over the back of the couch. “Only that I have the life that I want, within reason. Perfection isn’t possible, Asami. It doesn’t make any sense to me to spend time moping after things I know I cannot have, book or no. There’s no point.”</p><p>That was interesting. So there <em> were </em> things that Iroh wanted. He just didn’t think that he could get them, and had already written them off. The idea was both practical and a little sad. “Well, what’s an example?” Asami asked. “Something you want, that you know you can’t have no matter what.”</p><p>“All right,” Iroh said, buttoning his jacket. “A pet.”</p><p>“A pet?”</p><p>“Yes. I like animals. I always have. I would like a pet. Nothing huge, but something like that little fire ferret Bolin has. Yet I live on a battleship. We can’t have animals on board, and even if we could I’d be too busy to care for one properly. I’m gone for months at a time, so any pet I leave at home would essentially be someone else’s more than my own. So, even though I may want one, there is no way for me to have a pet.”</p><p>“You could always quit the United Forces,” Asami said. “Have The Adventures of Iroh the Completely Average and his fire ferret, Hori, instead.”</p><p>“Very funny.” Iroh adjusted his neatly knotted collar. “Is this straight?”</p><p>“You look very official.” Asami smirked. “Or officious, or one of those things.”</p><p>Iroh gave her a look. “If you keep this up I’m going to change my mind and have you seated next to Commander Bumi tonight. He likes burping contests and no, a state dinner won’t stop him. I’ve learned that the hard way.”</p><p>She laughed. Asami liked Commander Bumi just fine, but had no trouble imagining him in a burping contest, especially if it would annoy Iroh or Tenzin. “Fine. You look very nice, Iroh.”</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t mind meeting there?” he asked.</p><p>“Not at all.” Iroh apparently had some things he needed to get from his ship and wouldn’t have time to come back to the hotel before the dinner. “Keys?”</p><p>“Right.” He dug in his pocket, then tossed her the keys to the X-11, which was back to being parked in the hotel garage. He gave her a nod and a smile as she caught them. “See you at seven.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami got off the elevated train at 23rd street. She didn’t normally take the train, but the combination of her book and this morning’s puzzle had put her in the mood to try something different. To her surprise the trip was quick and efficient, and only cost two yuans. In addition to being fast, it was actually interesting. Asami had never paid much attention to the stations themselves before, but as she passed in and out she was able to admire the fine metal archways and patterned brickwork of each. Every platform was a little different, yet they all went together, as if part of a set. As she walked down the stairs to the street below, Asami reminded herself to take the train more often instead of a cab. </p><p>From there it was only a short walk to the docks. This part of the Industrial District was mostly shipping and warehousing, but a certain number of berths had been set aside to house the five remaining ships in Iroh’s fleet, as well as the two of Bumi’s that still remained in the city. Two guards, each sporting the crimson and white uniform of United Forces officers, met her at the dock.</p><p>“Excuse me, ma’am,” said the guard on the right, a thin man with an even thinner mustache. “This area is temporarily closed to the public.”</p><p>“I’m here on General Iroh’s orders,” Asami said promptly. “Contract engineering. I’m here to do an assessment of the damaged vessels.” </p><p>The other guard, a portly, red-faced man, spoke up. “We’re not expecting no engineers, Miss. What’s your name?”</p><p>“Imasa,” Asami said. She looked pointedly at her watch. “And you’re wasting my time. I bill by the hour.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the first guard said. “We’ll have to clear you with security.”</p><p>“General Iroh gave me his word that his name was all the security I needed. He needs this report within the hour. If you’d like to tell him that it took twice as long for double the cost because his word wasn’t good enough for you, be my guest, but I assure you that he’s already in a foul mood and this won’t help.”</p><p>The guards looked at each other. “General Iroh <em> was </em> here yesterday with some engineers,” the thin man said. </p><p>“And he did look mighty pissed,” said the other. He turned his red face back to Asami. “All right if one of us escorts you? Not sayin’ nothing about General Iroh’s word and all, but it’s standard procedure for guests.”</p><p>Asami smiled. “Not at all.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The Bank of the United Republic was one of the oldest buildings in the city. It was just off the square near City Hall, its massive sandstone columns rising nearly three stories from the street. Asami had pointed it out to Iroh last night as they’d walked back from their ice cream date. Not date. Mission, she supposed. Ice cream mission.</p><p>The smooth marble stairs led up to a pair of brass double doors not unlike the ones at the Grand Republic Hotel. The inside was cool and silent. The bank had been one of the few places that had intimidated Asami as a child. For some reason, it had always reminded her of the hospital where they’d taken her mother… after. A place of whispered voices, somber faces, and the click and rustle of unseen hands on machinery. </p><p>Asami strode across the wide floor to one of the counters. There was no line today. A young man looked up through the golden bars and said, “May I help you?”</p><p>“Yes,” Asami said. She tried her hardest to sound crisp and businesslike. She was only 18, but it couldn’t hurt to seem older. “I need two things. First, I need to get into my safe deposit box. But I’ve left the key at home. Is there anything you can do?”</p><p>The man looked thoughtful. “I’m not sure. Typically one needs a key to access the vaults.”</p><p>“What if I said that my father is Hiroshi Sato, and that we are very, <em> very </em> good customers?” </p><p>The young man blanched. “Miss… Sato? Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll speak with the manager and we’ll see what we can do. I’m sure… I’m sure with the proper identification… but you said there was something else?”</p><p>“Yes,” Asami said. “What can you tell me about charitable donations?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Lie #6: You’ve Nailed Your Look. When was the last time you changed up your look? For many of us, we settle on a style and then repeat it for years without thinking. Yet how you look is often the first thing other people notice about you. Today, dare to do something different, whether it’s as quick as a new hair style or as intense as a day-long makeover. Then watch people’s reactions. What worked? What didn’t? Chances are, there’s at least something about it that will move you closer to the life YOU want, and not simply the life that you’re used to. </em>
</p><p>The bell over the door tinkled. Asami stopped, a little nervous. She hadn’t been in Rania Harcham’s in a while. Now that she was past the age of school dances, the last thing that she wanted was for people to get the wrong idea. </p><p>“Ah!” said a man’s voice. “What a pleasure.” She turned to see a short, dapper little man trot over to her. His hazel skin and wide blue eyes pegged him as Water Tribe. He adjusted his round glasses and gave her a once-over. “It’s always nice to have a truly beautiful bride to work with.”</p><p><em> Well, so much for not getting the wrong idea. </em> “I’m not getting married,” Asami said.</p><p>“Oh.” The little man frowned in disappointment. “Sister?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“But surely you’re not old enough to be mother of the bride yet?”</p><p>“What? Of course not!” <em> Really. </em>Asami almost walked out right then. This had clearly been a bad idea. Maybe she’d find something at Oma’s. But she stopped herself. Rania Harcham’s was the best, and anyway she was already here. “I need an evening gown,” she said.</p><p>“Ah. Of course.” The man gave her a nod, then turned and marched off towards the back of the store. “Follow me.” </p><p>He led her past a long rack of fluffy white wedding gowns. They came in every imaginable style and fabric, from strapless and sleek to large, lacy balloons covered in glittering faux diamonds. But they all had one thing in common: Asami would never wear them for Mako. She remembered the times before when she’d pass Rania Harcham’s on the way to somewhere else and slow down to look in the window, thinking to herself about what she might choose if, one day, far in the future, they decided to go there. She’d never been the kind of girl to spend hours imagining her wedding, but Asami liked clothes and the dress had been the one part she’d been interested in. Long sleeve or short? Fitted or flounced? As she walked past each of them seemed to accuse her. <em> Not good enough, Asami, </em> they whispered. <em> You’ll never be good enough for us. </em></p><p>It got worse. </p><p>“So what are you looking for?” the man asked. “Color? Cut? Length?” He led her up to a set of dressing rooms and past a second associate, then over to a corner with a pedestal and a few long mirrors. </p><p>Asami thought of her book. “All my formal dresses are red,” she said. “And my, er, friend that I’m going with, he’ll be in red, too. So something different than that. I also wear a lot of black and maroon, so not that, either.”</p><p>“A gentleman in red, I see,” the little man nodded. “You must be going to General Iroh’s gala tonight as well. Nothing quite like a man in uniform, eh?”</p><p><em> IROH’S gala? </em> He’d said he was required, but he’d never mentioned that the event was for him.</p><p>“Yes, yes,” said the man, seeing her face. “We’ve had quite a few requests for that this week. I’m happy you came to us. Apparently it’s going to be quite the affair.” </p><p>“Yes,” Asami said slowly. She was still too surprised. “He said white tie?”</p><p>“Right you are.” The associate looked her up and down again. “So you said not red. Anything else I should know before I find a few things to try? You have a wonderful body for clothes, so there are a few styles I can recommend right away.”</p><p>But Asami was no longer listening. She’d already heard the voice from the other side of the store.</p><p>“Are you sure you don’t have this in blue?” The door of one of the dressing rooms opened and Korra stepped out. She was dressed in a long, high-necked evening gown of deep purple. “I mostly wear blue.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said the other associate, a young woman. “I think you look lovely, but if you want blue, I have a few more suggestions.” </p><p>“Please,” Korra said. It was only then that she finally saw Asami. She froze as her blue eyes locked onto hers. A faint blush rose to her cheeks. At least she had the decency to look embarrassed. Then she ducked back inside the dressing room. “I’ll change out of this in the meantime,” she said through the door. </p><p>They hadn’t actually spoken since the South Pole. Asami had still been reeling from her breakup with Mako, but was determined to suck it up and support her friend as they took Korra to see Master Katara, Tenzin’s mother and one of the world’s most accomplished healers. The Avatar had had most of her bending ripped away by Amon. Surely Asami’s love life could wait. But apparently Korra and Mako had had other ideas. They’d come in arm and arm a few minutes after they’d run off into the snow, flushed from the cold and beaming, to announce to everyone in the room that Korra was cured and that they were in love. Of course Asami had had little doubt why Mako had broken up with her, but still. It was so selfish, and heartless, that even loyal Bolin had looked momentarily ashamed of his brother. Asami had left that night and hadn’t seen either one of them since.</p><p>She turned to the little man in the glasses. “You know what I want?” Asami said. “I want to be 10,000 times prettier than that girl over there. I want to make her look like a tin can left on the side of the road.”</p><p>The man smiled in sympathetic understanding. He was, after all, used to dealing with brides. “I have just the thing.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami put the X-11 in park just outside of City Hall. It wasn’t all that far from the hotel—spirits, she and Iroh had walked to the square out front just last night—but she wasn’t about to go even six blocks in a ball gown. Let alone in heels. Not that she’d been wearing them. Asami reached down and hoisted the hem of her dress, then slipped on the pair of silver strap-heeled sandals that had been resting in the passenger seat. The only thing worse than walking six blocks in fancy shoes was driving them.</p><p>She stepped out of the satomobile and onto the sidewalk, then lowered the hem of her dress. One benefit of both being tall and wearing a floor-length gown was that her shoes didn’t have to be quite so torturously high. Asami adjusted the skirt again, making sure it wasn’t too wrinkled from driving, then grasped a fistful of the silken fabric so she could walk and made her way to the entrance.</p><p>The front of City Hall had been decked out for the occasion. The gala might be invitation only, but that didn’t mean that certain members of the council didn’t want to advertise the fact that they were having it. Red, white, and gold streamers hung from the building’s facade alongside a variety of similarly-colored lanterns. Strung between the two central pillars was a big banner that read, “Thank you, United Forces!” </p><p>A steady stream of elegantly-dressed men and women made their way up the steps to the large doors. Asami recognized a few of them from her father’s circle; not Equalists, but the cream of high society, the very children of whom she’d once dated with such approval. Some of them even had their children with them, academy graduates like herself who were now taking their own place at the top of Republic City’s social heap. Asami wondered how many of them would talk to her now. Despite many outpourings of sympathy, none of her former society friends had invited her over, or out, in the weeks since her father’s arrest.</p><p>A tuxedoed official stood in the light of the open doorway, checking invitations against a long list in his hand. Asami paused at the bottom of the stairs, a little unsure what to do. She hadn’t actually gotten an invitation. She only had Iroh’s word that she was invited. He, however, was nowhere to be seen. Well, nothing for it. She couldn’t spend all evening lurking outside the entrance. Asami hiked her dress and marched up the stairs.</p><p>She was virtually to the top before she saw him. Iroh was standing off to the left, nearly obscured by one of the large columns, his hands folded behind his back. Once again Asami got the impression that he was almost hiding. </p><p>His uniform looked slightly different tonight. The colors were the same, but the collar was a little higher, the shoulders cut a tad more square, and the material seemed thicker and richer somehow. The long row of small medals over his heart sparkled in the light from the doorway. The winged emblem of the United Forces was embroidered clearly on each red shoulder. In the soft glow of the entrance they, and the uniform’s lining, looked stitched from pure gold.</p><p>Iroh wasn’t looking at her though. He wasn’t looking at anyone. Instead, he was staring upwards, apparently studying the top of the column, a look of quiet scrutiny on his face. <em> Architecture, </em> Asami thought. A whole dinner in his honor, and Iroh was outside, concealed amongst the shadows and admiring the building. For some reason the thought made her smile. She was getting the sense that Iroh was a bit of a nerd, and perhaps more than a little shy as well. </p><p>“See something you like up there, general?” Asami asked. Iroh jumped. Then he looked at her and his eyes widened. His gaze flicked over her dress and he bit his lower lip a little. Asami didn’t think he even realized he was doing it. He seemed at a loss for words.</p><p>The dress she’d worn was a light seafoam blue, almost white. Who said Korra owned blue? The neck was cut into a deep V, low enough to be suggestive without being inappropriate. From there the dress hugged her body, flaring into a wide bell just above her knee and cascading all the way to the floor. Clustered all over the soft silken fabric were countless light blue, purple, and pale silver butterflies. They were just fabric, of course, but the whole effect made the dress seem to flutter and move when she walked. It had cost a small fortune, but everything else Asami had tried on after had seemed somehow inadequate. Besides, it had been an expensive day. It wasn’t just about showing up Korra, either. If she was to be seated next to Iroh for his big night, she wanted to reflect well on him also. </p><p>“You look very nice too, ” Asami said, laughing a little at his stunned expression.</p><p>“I was only surprised,” said Iroh. He crossed the space between them and took her gloved hand in his own, then leaned down and pressed it to his lips in a short bow. “I thought you were being attacked by flutterbats. I was trying to decide whether or not to set them on fire.” Asami looked up to see him smirking at her. She swatted his arm and he laughed. Then Iroh bent his elbow a little in offer. “May I?”</p><p>She slipped her hand through the loop of his arm. “After you, general.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p><em> Whale walrus, </em> Asami thought. <em> He looks like a whale walrus! </em>Raiko’s fluffy mustache bounced up and down as he continued talking. It was utterly hypnotizing. She pinched herself hard through the fabric of her dress and bit down on the inside of her mouth, determined not to laugh. It would be disastrous to laugh. </p><p>In truth, there was nothing particularly silly about the man. Tall and perhaps in his 40s, with a large square chin, round glasses, and what looked like at least mixed Water Tribe heritage, the would-be president was more or less unremarkable. It wasn’t even a particularly large mustache. But something about its placement, and the way it moved in time to his giant eyebrows, somehow struck Asami as deliciously ridiculous. Or perhaps just something about the evening was making her giddy. It was all she’d been able to do to keep a straight face during dinner. </p><p>She glanced over at Iroh, who didn’t seem to find anything remotely funny about Raiko’s appearance. He was deep in conversation, his dark brows knit together in concentration. He’d initially been rather quiet, apparently put off by the large crowd, but now that they’d been seated a while he seemed to be doing fine.</p><p>"I love your earrings." Asami started. Raiko’s wife, Buttercup, sat across from her at the table. Apparently she’d been talking.</p><p>"Oh! Thank you. They were my mother's." Still unwilling to return to the house, the diamond teardrops in the family safe deposit box had been her only option. Asami had never worn them. Her father had insisted that they would be a wedding gift.</p><p>“So how long have you two been together?”</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“I asked how long you and General Iroh have been together.” She looked fondly over at Raiko. “It’ll be 20 years for us next month.” Buttercup shook her head, her piled gray hair jiggling slightly. “Sometimes I can’t believe it.” </p><p>“Oh. Iroh and I are just friends.”</p><p>The other woman raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow. “Friends?”</p><p>“Yes. We, er, were both coming alone, so we decided to, um, be alone together.” Asami felt her face grow hot as she realized what she said. “Not alone together, but you know, just… sit together. As friends. In seats.”</p><p>“I see.” Buttercup looked at Iroh, then back at Asami. “Well, I hope that my husband and I will be seeing more of your friend in the future. I think we can do a lot for the city.” She smiled a little knowing smile. “Perhaps we’ll see more of you, too?”</p><p>“Excuse me,” Asami said. “Powder room.” She got quickly to her feet and stalked off towards the bathrooms. Really, some people. As if a man and a woman couldn’t simply be friends. Iroh had said that nothing would be implied by them coming together, but if Buttercup was any indication quite a few people might have gotten the wrong idea anyway. It wouldn’t do to give Republic City’s elite reason to gossip. And what if, now that he was single, Iroh was trying to meet someone? He didn’t live here, and was leaving in three days besides, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to have a little fun. While the crowd skewed older, there were plenty of young people around. It would hardly be fair if Asami made him seem unavailable.</p><p>She thought hard. By the time she returned from the bathroom she had a plan. Instead of going back to her table, Asami headed to a long bar that had been set up on one side of the room. The band had struck up a slightly faster tune, an indication that dinner was over and it was time for dancing. She secured a flute of champagne, then started to slowly circulate.</p><p>It wasn’t long before someone asked her to dance. He was a young man, perhaps a few years older than her, that she vaguely remembered from one thing or another. He introduced himself as Kin. The name didn’t ring a bell. He might have been the older brother of someone she’d gone to school with. </p><p>“Why do you keep looking over there?” Kin asked after a while.</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“I asked why you keep looking over there,” he said. </p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>“Whatever.” Kin did not ask her for a second dance. </p><p>Asami went through two more dances before she made her way back to the drinks. She didn’t want any more champagne—Saturday night was still too fresh in her memory—but she could do with a glass of water and it would give her a chance to reset. The idea was, if she could dance with enough other partners, it would be clear that she and Iroh hadn’t come here together. Asami liked dancing, so it wasn’t exactly a hardship, and she hoped it would help clarify things for everyone. </p><p>There was one other person in line in front of her at the bar, a tall man with brown hair. He thanked the bartender, then turned, one fizzy pink drink in each hand. A pale, slightly pointed face. Light copper eyes under heavy brows. His chocolate hair perfectly spiked in the front. </p><p>“Hey, Asami.” </p><p>It all made sense now. Korra in the dress shop. How could she have been so stupid? Of course the Avatar would have been invited to an event honoring the United Forces. She was a bigger celebrity when it came to the defense of the city than anyone in uniform. But Asami and Iroh had been on the early side, and had been sitting with their backs to most of the room. Hadn’t Korra even had her own celebratory gala two weeks ago? Asami hadn’t gone, but it had been all over the papers.</p><p>And of course, Mako was her date.</p><p>“Hi.” She didn’t know what else to say. </p><p>“Are you, uh, enjoying the party?” Mako reached up to scratch at the back of his neck like he did when he was uncomfortable, then realized that his hands were full. </p><p>“I was.” </p><p>“Look, Asami—”</p><p>“Excuse me.” Iroh’s voice. Asami turned to see him holding out his hand. “My apologies, Mako,” he said. “I’ve been told that it’s customary to offer visiting dignitaries a dance with the most beautiful woman in the room. Miss Sato, would you do me the honor?” </p><p>Asami felt herself blush. She knew he was just being kind and saving her from an obviously awkward conversation. There was certainly no such custom, at least that she was aware of. But something about the way that Iroh said it was so… honest, somehow. He’d called her the most beautiful woman in the room as if it were a statement, not an opinion.</p><p><em> Hmm. </em> Dancing with Iroh was definitely <em> not </em> part of the “I’m not here with Iroh” plan. But she couldn’t turn him down in front of everyone. Besides, they were friends now. Certainly dancing with her friend was preferable to beating her ex over the head with two pink fizzy drinks. Or at least, less likely to get her arrested.</p><p>“All right.” She took his hand and walked back to the dance floor, leaving Mako standing alone by the bar. As soon as they were out of earshot she said, “You didn’t have to do that, Iroh.”</p><p>Iroh looked at her and smiled. He seemed, if anything, a little nervous. “I know. And you’re probably going to regret saying yes. Dance with me anyway?”</p><p>Asami laughed a little. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of saying no to the guest of honor.” He grimaced a bit at that. It had become clear over the course of the evening that he didn’t much like the attention.</p><p>Iroh squeezed her hand a little as a new song started up. He glanced to either side, then put one warm hand on her waist. But instead of stepping forward into the dance, he took a half step back, then sort of… pushed her. Asami did her best to follow, stepping back, but she wasn’t familiar with the steps. Then Iroh turned and leaned to the side, pulling her back by her waist while stretching her hand in the opposite direction. Caught off-guard, she nearly fell into him. </p><p>Asami looked around, wondering if this was simply a series of steps she didn’t know. But everyone else on the dance floor seemed to be dancing more or less normally. Iroh swung her hand back behind him in a long, fluid movement as he stepped forwards. This time Asami did run into him, bumping into his chest as he both pulled her arm back and moved towards her. His medals clinked faintly against one another.</p><p>“Oh! Sorry,” he mumbled. He turned again and thrust his right hip forwards, swinging her around his outstretched leg. She moved her feet quickly and barely avoided tripping over his foot. Suddenly, she realized what he was doing. Iroh wasn’t dancing at all. Instead, Asami recognized the foot movements of a basic progression of firebending stances. But firebending wasn’t done in pairs. Iroh didn’t seem to know quite what to do with a partner, and was more or less simply pushing and dragging her along as he stepped in and out of the various forms. </p><p>“Iroh,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”</p><p>“I have no idea,” he muttered. She saw his cheeks turn faintly pink. And she got it. </p><p>Iroh didn’t know how to dance. At all.</p><p><em> “Iroh. </em>I thought… didn’t you have to take dancing lessons? As a prince?”</p><p>“I did.” His blush deepened. “But what if, hypothetically, a 9-year-old Iroh used the time he was supposedly receiving dancing lessons to go watch Fire Nation army drills from the top of his favorite tree? Because he didn’t consider dancing very practical?”</p><p>Iroh swept her into another awkward turn, knocking one knee against her leg as he did so. Asami raised an eyebrow. “Hypothetically?” </p><p>“Yes,” Iroh said. “And if you ever tell my family I’ll deny it. They paid Master Juro good money for those lessons.” He glanced down at her and gave her a small smile. “It just happened that I paid him better to spend those two hours playing bone-tile diabolique instead. In retrospect, I think my allowance was too high.”</p><p>It was almost too funny. Asami could picture it perfectly, a skinny boy with thick black hair and serious eyes cutting a shrewd deal with someone five times his age in order to buy himself a few hours a week, not of leisure, but of something he simply found more interesting. </p><p>“Okay,” she said, tightening her grip on his right hand. “Follow me.” </p><p>Asami, of course, knew perfectly well how to dance. She hadn’t been taught to lead, but there had always been a shortage of men in her classes and all of the girls had had to take turns with the role. Besides, it wasn’t that hard to reverse engineer the movements. She slid her right hand up to Iroh’s shoulder blade, then pushed with her left as she took a step forward on her right foot. Iroh took the hint and stepped back with his left, matching her pace. Asami smiled and made a quarter turn to the left, pulling Iroh with her. He let himself be led, grinning as she swung him in a slow waltz across the floor.</p><p>“Hey, you’re pretty good.”</p><p>Asami laughed. “Probably because I didn’t cut dance class.” </p><p>“Perhaps you should just take the compliment.” </p><p>The song wound to a close. Asami slowed, but Iroh kept hold of her hand. </p><p>“Wait,” he said. “I can do this part.” As the last few notes sounded he lifted her hand high above her head, then twisted his wrist a little. Asami grinned and leaned into the spin. The butterflies on her dress flapped as she twirled, the skirt flaring out around her. </p><p>She laughed again as Iroh caught her on her return. It wasn’t the most graceful dance move she’d ever seen, but the look of deep concentration on his face more than made up for any flaws in execution. And at least he hadn’t tripped her again. Iroh looked down at her once she’d stopped, clearly pleased at the same. </p><p>“How’d I do?” he asked.</p><p>“There’s hope for you yet. Thank you for the pity dance, Iroh. You may have just saved Mako’s life.”</p><p>For some reason Iroh frowned at her. “It wasn’t a pity dance, Asami. Unless you’re talking about me.” A new song started up, but he didn’t let go of her hand.</p><p>“Iroh, you’re the guest of honor.” She gave him an exaggerated once-over. “Not to mention a handsome prince in a dashing uniform. I hardly think you of all people need a pity dance.”</p><p>“And you’re easily the most beautiful woman here,” Iroh said again in his matter-of-fact tone. “Anyone can see that.”</p><p>“I’d better be considering how much I paid for this dress.”</p><p>“It isn’t the dress.” Iroh was staring down at her intently now, his golden eyes hard to read. “Asami—” he started.</p><p>“General,” said a deep voice beside them. “May I have a word?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami watched Iroh across the room deep in conversation with Councilman Tenzin. She hadn’t bothered with another dance partner, despite several offers. She was too curious, and not a small bit worried. The look on Tenzin’s face had been grave, and he’d hardly acknowledged Asami at all. Anything that would pull the General of the United Forces off the dance floor at his own gala must be serious, indeed. </p><p>As she watched his brows knit together. Then Iroh’s eyes widened in shock. Suddenly he gripped Tenzin’s shoulder, almost shaking him. He started talking fast. The airbender gave him a firm nod, then another. Iroh released him, looking slightly stunned. He said something else to Tenzin, apparently some kind of dismissal, then strode back across the room towards her.</p><p>“Asami, you won’t <em> believe </em> it!” he said, almost running the last few feet. Before she could say anything he grasped her waist and lifted, actually spinning her in a little half circle. The butterflies on her dress rustled. Iroh laughed as he set her down, then pushed his hair back off his forehead and grinned.</p><p>“Iroh, what’s gotten into you?”</p><p>“The fleet, Asami!” he said “It’s incredible. Tenzin told me there’s been a donation. A huge one, I mean hundreds of thousands of yuans. I didn’t even know the United Forces took donations, but apparently since it’s anonymous the council decided it’s okay. And anyway, it’s all for repairs to the ships. The engineers say it’s all doable, just expensive, and this guy wants to cover most of the costs! It means that I won’t have to sink the ships at all.” Iroh laughed down at her again, his gold eyes shining. “I know it sounds silly, and that we’re probably better off with new ships anyway. That’s what the Firelord said when I asked if we could help. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the old sailor in me, but Asami I love those hunks of junk. I don’t think I ever admitted how much, but I do. It’s a little like your old satomobiles, I guess. Something about the originals is special, and worth saving.”</p><p>Asami beamed at him. “Oh Iroh, I’m so happy for you.” In truth, the repairs weren’t going to be difficult at all. Just pricey. She’d confirmed herself that most of the damage had been to the hulls and decks, not the engines. That was just cold rolled steel and about a thousand hours of union-rate welding. Really, considering that it had been her father who had orchestrated the attack, it was the least she could do. The fact that it made Iroh so obviously happy was simply a bonus.</p><p>“It’s amazing.” Iroh glanced around the room. “I just wish I knew who it was. I swear I might kiss him.”</p><p>“Or her.”</p><p>“Or her,” he said. “Anyway, I just wanted to share the good news. Come on. Can I get you a drink? For the first time all night I actually feel like celebrating.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” said a voice. “There you are.” Asami turned to see Tenzin. He must have walked over while she and Iroh were talking. “It’s a nice night. Would you care to step outside for a moment?”</p><p>Iroh was still over at the bar. There was now a bit of a line. Thinking she could keep it brief, and probably owed Tenzin an explanation, Asami nodded. He led her through a row of columns and out onto a small balcony. He’d been right. The night was warm and clear, the last gasp of summer before it faded into autumn. </p><p>“I’m not going to ask you where you’ve been,” Tenzin said. He reached up and scratched at his bald head. “I already promised Iroh that I wouldn’t pressure you. As long as you are all right, and the council and the police can reach you for testimony, where you spend your time is your business.”</p><p>“Thank you. And yes, I’m perfectly all right.” Under the circumstances, that was probably the best she could hope for. </p><p>Tenzin nodded. “Good. But I would like to talk to you about Iroh himself.”</p><p>Asami frowned. “What about him?”</p><p>The airbender sighed. “I hardly know where to begin.” He rubbed at his head again in what was clearly a nervous habit. The large blue arrow tattooed on his scalp shone faintly in the reflected glow of the city. “I hate conversations like this. I suppose I’ll just say it. Are you aware that General Iroh recently split with his fiancée?”</p><p>“Fiancée?” Asami was almost too stunned to say anything. <em> Fiancée? </em></p><p>“Or as good as. I don’t know if they had a formal arrangement yet, but Firelord Izumi fully expected them to be married by next summer. The dissolution came as quite a shock to all of us.”</p><p>“I had no idea,” Asami said. Iroh had mentioned a breakup, but she’d had no idea it had been so serious. In fact, she had assumed that the fact he hadn’t mentioned it much had meant exactly the opposite. She suddenly felt awful. Here she’d been all week talking about her own life when he’d been carrying around that kind of pain and uncertainty. What a friend she’d turned out to be.</p><p>“Well now you do,” said Tenzin. “I’m not sure what happened between you and Mako and Korra. No one tells me these kinds of things, and I don’t need to know them. But if you’re sleeping with General Iroh to get back at them, I’d be very disappointed.”</p><p>Asami gasped. “Iroh and I aren’t sleeping together!” </p><p>Tenzin gave her a skeptical look. “But you came here together tonight, and he insisted that the council seat you with him and Raiko at dinner. Spirits, I didn’t even know that you knew one another. No one seems to know where you’ve been except him. And multiple people have seen you coming and going from his hotel all week. What do you expect me to think? That’s an awful lot of coincidences.”</p><p>“I expect you to think that it’s none of your business.”</p><p>The old airbender grimaced, then rubbed at his temples. “I’m not going to argue with you. Let me simply say this. I don’t know you well, Asami, but I’ve known Iroh his whole life. He doesn’t take things lightly, and he’s been through a lot lately. A rebound fling is the opposite of what he needs right now.”</p><p>“And what about what I need?” she snapped. “Does that ever matter?” Suddenly she couldn’t imagine a world without Iroh in it. Did he really expect her to give that up just for some outdated sense of propriety?</p><p>“Of course it does.” Tenzin looked at her, and his grey eyes were almost sad. “All I’m saying is... be kind to him. Please.”</p><p>Asami sighed, the fight draining out of her. He was only trying to help. “Tenzin, we’re just friends,” she said. “I assure you, I have absolutely no interest in General Iroh.”</p><p>There was a soft sound to the right. She turned to see Iroh standing in the open doorway holding two glasses of champagne. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting,” he said. “Miss Sato, I’m leaving now. Please, stay as long as you’d like.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>There was a grinding noise accompanied by a slow whine. Asami winced. Then the X-11 sputtered and died. She heard a thump, and a muted yell. She squatted down by the passenger side to see Iroh with his forehead pressed to the steering wheel. Asami had given him back the keys at dinner, but it seemed that he was no better at getting it started than he had been on Sunday.</p><p>She tapped lightly on the window and he jumped. “Need some help?” she asked loudly. </p><p>Iroh closed his eyes and seemed to take a deep breath. Then he leaned over and unlocked the door. Asami dropped into the passenger seat, making sure to gather the bottom of her dress. </p><p>“Leaving me high and dry?” she asked. </p><p>“No,” Iroh said softly. “I’m just tired. I didn’t want to ruin your fun.”</p><p>“You’ll ruin my fun for sure if you keep torturing this sato,” Asami said, trying to keep her tone light. She wasn’t sure what had made him leave so abruptly, but one look at his face had told her not to press him. Especially if it turned out that he was upset Tenzin had spilled his secret to her. In her own experience, about the only thing worse than a bad breakup was the way your friends talked about your bad breakup behind your back.</p><p>“Here.” Asami took his hand and placed it over the shifter, then covered it in her own. Maybe a distraction would help, and spirits knew she couldn’t drive in her shoes. “Make sure it’s really in neutral. The older models it’s more of a feeling than a position. Like this.” She jiggled his hand a little. “Feel how it’s loose? That’s neutral.”</p><p>Iroh said nothing. </p><p>“All right. Push down on the clutch with your left foot.” She saw Iroh’s leg flex. “Now, here’s the trick. Push harder.”</p><p>“It’s already on the floor.”</p><p>“No, it’s not. You have to be forceful on these ones. There’s always an extra half inch at the end.” Iroh moved his leg a little and she saw the last little bit give. “Good. All right. Now the brake.”</p><p>“Shouldn’t I turn it on?”</p><p>“No. Push the brake.” Iroh did so. “Now turn the key.” To her surprise he reached over with his left hand and turned the ignition key. But of course, she still had his right pinned down on the shifter. The X-11 roared to life. </p><p>Asami smiled. “See? There’s still hope for you here, too. Now, this is the tricky part. Make sure you keep both feet pressed down hard. Otherwise we’ll wind up in the fountain.” Iroh nodded. She moved his hand on the shifter, pulling it back into reverse. She wiggled it slightly again. “This is backwards. Again, it’s more of a feeling. You have to feel it click into place. Now, very slowly, lift your right foot off the brake. When you’re about halfway up, ease off the clutch.” </p><p>Iroh gave her another nod and placed his left hand on the wheel, then did as she asked. The X-11 lurched a little, then began to move steadily backwards. Thankfully they weren’t close to any other cars. </p><p>“All right. Brake again, then clutch. Make sure it’s all the way down.” The sato slowed to a stop. Asami slid Iroh’s hand forwards into first gear. “Okay, now again.” There was another jolt, then they began rolling forwards. “All right. This is the last part. When the clutch is about halfway up, give her a little juice. Just a little. It’s like a trade-off. For every bit you ease up on the clutch, put a little more power into the gas. And don’t forget to turn the wheel.”</p><p>“The planes were easier,” Iroh muttered. </p><p>“Iroh, you crashed all the planes.”</p><p>He huffed out a laugh. “I know. I’m good at crashing.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Update 4/21: Ahhh!! There's art!!!! @likela made an amazing portrait of Asami in the dress: https://imgur.com/a/nKzufKZ</p><p>FYI, Asami's dress is inspired by a real dress. I fell in love and had to write it in. https://www.fancygirldesignstudio.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/03/Cate-Blanchett.jpg</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Thursday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Breakfast alone. Asami makes a deal and has a realization. Two encounters at the hearing. Everyone has nightmares. No one wants a romance.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asami woke to the sound of rain pounding against the window. It seemed early, at least from the light, but that might have only been the clouds. At least it was finally light though. The night had been long, and it felt like she’d hardly slept. Asami had tossed and turned, struggling to get comfortable, her mind floating in and out of barely remembered nightmares as she tried as hard as she could not to think about today, and what was coming.</p><p>Today was the day of the hearing.</p><p>She’d told herself it was no big deal. She wouldn’t be saying anything new, or that she hadn’t already told the police. Iroh had said that the hearing was closed, which meant that there wouldn’t be any reporters, either, at least inside the room. In fact, there wouldn’t be anybody besides court and police officials and those who were giving statements about the hangar, so that meant no more awkward encounters with Mako or Korra, either. They had split up and gone to confront Amon that day instead. Although she hadn’t met the judge yet, Lin Beifong, the chief of police, was a familiar—if not always friendly—face and someone Asami respected. There was no reason at all to be nervous.</p><p>Yet at the same time, a deep sense of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach. There were the cold hard facts of the hearing, but then there was also what it <em> was. </em> It, and others like it, would form the backbone of the case against the Equalists. It would be used to determine if that case went to trial, a trial where Asami would almost certainly be asked to testify. There was no mistaking it: what she did today, what she said, was the first official step to sending her own father to prison. Probably for life. </p><p>Asami rolled over and buried her face in her pillow. She thought of the last time they’d spoken, how he’d screamed that she was an ungrateful child. How right he had been. For more than half her life all they had had was each other. Her father had given her everything, and more besides. Yet after today, for all intents and purposes, she’d be an orphan, and the man who had doted on her for 12 years would spend the next 40 hating her from the inside of a 9’ x 6’ box. </p><p>Eventually Asami gave up trying to go back to sleep. She dressed in something she deemed good enough for lounging, then opened the door. To her surprise Iroh was seated on the couch on the right, the one that she’d started thinking of as “his” couch, as opposed to “her” couch across the coffee table. He was already dressed in his workout gear and was in the middle of tying his shoes. </p><p>“Ah,” he said, not looking up. “I thought you were asleep.” He bent forward and finished his other shoe, then hopped up and stretched. </p><p>Asami only shook her head. No tea or coffee meant no talking if she could help it. How Iroh could be so awake at this hour was beyond her, even though he’d probably slept just fine. Then it hit her.</p><p>“Iroh.” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. “Outside the wet?” She shook her head and tried again. “Raining. You look like… the bending deck is outside?”</p><p>Iroh shrugged a little. He didn’t smile. “It’s only water. But no firebending today. I’m afraid I can’t join you this morning. I’m going for a longer run instead.”</p><p>“In a rainstorm?”</p><p>He shrugged again and started walking to the door. “I need to work some things out. Running helps. Don’t wait for breakfast, either.” Then he left. </p><p>Asami just stood there, facing the closed door, puzzled. He hadn’t been angry, exactly, but usually in the morning Iroh was all smiles. She hoped he wasn’t still upset about last night. She didn’t know how much of her and Tenzin’s conversation he’d overheard, if any, but it hadn’t sounded like his engagement had been a secret. Besides, Asami had been careful not to bring it up. He couldn’t seriously be holding a grudge just because she knew a little more about what he was going through, right?</p><p>She shook her head, then hunted up the breakfast menu. Maybe he was tense about the hearing, too. After all, Iroh would also be making a statement. As far as she could tell he was excellent at his job, and she knew he would do whatever the United Republic needed without complaint. Yet it wasn’t hard to imagine him not being excited about it nonetheless. He wasn’t losing his only family today, but Iroh would be the center of attention, at least for a time, and there were parts of the story, mostly the sky battle, where he was the only witness. His input would be critical, as would his ability to potentially identify the surviving Equalist pilots. That was still a lot of pressure.</p><p>Come to think of it, Asami hadn’t ever heard Iroh speak about what had happened once he’d left her father’s secret airplane hangar. The story had been all over the papers and the radio, and of course every moment of the battle had been a topic of conversation among Team Avatar back when they’d still been speaking. Commander Bumi had even done a dramatic reenactment at one point, presenting Iroh, and therefore the entire United Forces, as a kind of air ninja that had effortlessly swung from plane to plane, beating up pilots and saving the city from certain destruction. Bumi wasn’t a bender, so in his retelling Iroh’s firebending had little to do with his success, nor did he see fit to mention that the Equalists' target had not been the city at all, but his own fleet. In Bumi’s mind, the United Forces always saved the day, and spirits forbid anyone ever saved the United Forces instead.</p><p>Well, whatever had gotten into Iroh, surely he’d feel better after some running. It was clear that he liked it. Asami glanced out at the driving rain, a faint frown on her face. Hopefully he’d be okay. Visibility for the satomobiles wouldn’t be great, but he always stopped at the crossings. For a moment an image came to her mind of Mako sprawled out in the street. She hadn’t hit him hard, but even an experienced driver like herself could hit a pedestrian under the wrong circumstances. Asami closed her eyes and made herself stop thinking about it. Instead, she scanned the room service menu. But nothing jumped out at her. Suddenly the idea of someone bringing her breakfast so she could eat it alone didn’t appeal to her at all. </p><p>After an hour of slowly getting ready, all the while telling herself that she wasn’t waiting for Iroh, Asami finally decided to leave the hotel. She had no idea how far he intended to run, or even what he considered a longer run. Five miles? Ten? Besides, with a more lengthy workout today, and the hearing taking up much of the afternoon, he might not even have time for a sit-down breakfast. Most of all, they had had a deal. They would keep their own schedules, no questions asked. If Iroh had said not to wait, he might be put out if she had anyway. The polite thing to do would be to give him his space, and never mind if that meant that there was no one to pick out a good tea blend or eat up her extra sausages. Asami was a grown woman and could fend for herself.</p><p>She grabbed the granola bar that Iroh had given her on Sunday, which she’d never gotten around to eating, and headed out the door.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami’s intention had been to walk back downtown and buy a suit for the hearing. She may have already bought half of 4th ave, but none of that included businesswear. Yet instead she found herself hitting the button for the parking garage. All the way down, all she could think about was Iroh’s face. How he’d seemed so serious this morning, perhaps even a little down. Although funding the repairs to the United Forces fleet had mostly been about assuaging her own guilt about the role that her family had played in the Equalist rebellion, she couldn’t deny that she’d had him in mind when she’d made the transfer. He’d been so upset the night before and, more importantly, so needlessly hard on himself. The surprise attack was her father’s fault, Amon’s fault, not his. And when he’d rushed over to her after getting the news, the look on Iroh’s face had been enough to take her breath away. There was no denying it: joy looked good on him.</p><p>To see him lose that joy so quickly broke Asami’s heart. She wanted more happy Iroh, more of the man who laughed and spun her around with a grin that lit up his whole face. So while repairing the fleet had most definitely, absolutely, 100% not been about him, Asami couldn’t help thinking that there was something else, something small, that she might be able to do to cheer him up. It was only when she’d had the key in the ignition that she’d realized she’d stopped thinking about the hearing entirely. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>She slowed the X-11 to a crawl as she neared the Sato estate. Though she hadn’t been home in five days, bafflingly there was still a single reporter camped out under an umbrella outside the gate, a woman with a blunt bob and glasses. Asami was fairly certain that the hearing would be news and guessed that’s where most of the press was hanging out today. Perhaps this young woman had hoped to try a different plan and get lucky rather than join the crush. In an odd way, Asami could respect that. Besides, she had an idea.</p><p>Lie #7: Getting What You Want Isn’t As Important as Avoiding Conflict</p><p>Asami pulled up to the gate and rolled down the window. The reporter jerked her head up from the newspaper she’d been reading, clearly shocked. “Miss? Miss Sato? Miss Sato!” she said, scrambling to her feet and grabbing a notebook and what looked like a small tape recorder. She almost dropped both. Up close, the reporter seemed very young, perhaps no older than Asami herself. “Miss Sato, Jin-Woo, <em> Water County Herald</em>. I have a few questions. It’s rumored that—”</p><p>“Stop,” Asami said. <em> Water Country Herald? </em> That wasn’t even a city paper; it was little more than a county-wide newsletter, the biggest scoops of which were generally which streets had the largest potholes and who thought they’d seen a pythonaconda in the sewers. “I have a proposal for you.”</p><p>Jin-Woo of the <em> Water County Herald </em> stopped. “A proposal?”</p><p>Asami nodded. “A proposal. I’ll answer any questions that you have about the Equalists, about activities that I know took place on or with my family’s private property, and my personal involvement in any of the events of the attacks that I’ve not been told by RCPD to keep confidential. I will not speculate on anything else. I will not comment on police proceedings. And I will not comment on my personal life. If you ask about any of these things, the interview ends.”</p><p>“Wow,” Jin-Woo said. She apparently hadn’t expected Asami to actually talk. “Um, okay. Great! So, Miss Sato—”</p><p>“In exchange,” Asami continued, talking over her. “I need a second set of hands in the workshop. I could do it all myself, but I don’t have a lot of time today and an assistant will speed things up a lot. You help me out, do exactly what I say, and you get the interview. Deal?”</p><p>To her credit the reporter looked thoughtful. She was clearly bright and was weighing her options. After all, any young woman with half a brain should think hard about going home alone with the daughter of a known terrorist, or really any stranger at all. Asami thought about waking up in Iroh’s room that first morning and bit back a smile. If only she’d taken her own advice.</p><p>“All right,” said Jin-Woo. “But I want to make a call as soon as we get there so my editor knows where I am. Okay?”</p><p>Asami smiled. Good girl. “Okay.” She reached over and unlocked the passenger side door. “Oh, and one more thing.” </p><p>The reporter stopped, half in and half out of the sato. “Yes?”</p><p>“I’m going to need your voice recorder.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“That should do it,” Asami said. She slammed the belly closed with a snap and turned the final screw. It wouldn’t be obvious how to change the battery, but she could show him. Iroh was smart, and if last night’s driving lesson was any indication he could follow directions.</p><p>“It’s kind of cute,” said Jin-Woo. “I can’t believe you built that whole thing in three hours.”</p><p>Asami smiled. “I had help. Thank you.”</p><p>“No problem. Thanks for talking to me. The <em> Water County Herald </em> might not be the <em> Republic City Press, </em> but an exclusive interview with you has got to be worth something.”</p><p>“Maybe I know a thing or two about being a young woman in a man’s profession?” Asami said, packing up her toolbox. She brushed an armful of wire snips to the floor. She’d have to clean up later. The hearing was in less than two hours, and she needed to change and get back downtown.</p><p>The reporter grinned. “I’d believe it.” She nodded to her notebook. “So I’m okay to use all of this?”</p><p>“Yes. I’ll be giving an official statement at 2:00, so I haven’t told you anything I won’t tell judge Ahn in a couple of hours. Oh,”—Asami dug in her handbag and pulled out her wallet—“here. For the voice recorder.”</p><p>“Oh! No, that’s okay. The story is enough compensation.”</p><p>Asami raised an eyebrow. “And how much do they pay junior reporters down at the <em> Water County Herald?” </em></p><p>The young woman laughed, then took the 50-yuan note and shoved it in her pocket. “Thanks.”</p><p>“Of course.” Asami tucked Iroh’s present under one arm, then led the reporter out of the workshop. They made their way down to the end of the drive, chatting politely. Thankfully the rain had stopped. She unlocked the gate, then held out her hand.</p><p>“Good luck with the story. Try not to make me look too bad.”</p><p>Jin-Woo laughed again, then shook. “Hardly. If everything you said checks out, you’re basically an action hero. Breaking out of jail, fighting your dad like that, figuring out all those mecha tanks. I intend to tell it honest, but you sound like one of the good guys. Girls, I guess.”</p><p>“I appreciate that.”</p><p>The reporter cocked her head. “Can I ask you something else? Off the record.”</p><p>“Um. I suppose,” Asami said carefully. “But I can’t promise I’ll answer.”</p><p>“Fair.” Jin-Woo nodded. “General Iroh? There are some great pictures of the two of you from the United Forces gala last night. I loved your dress by the way.”</p><p>“Thank you. And he’s just a friend. Honest.”</p><p>The young woman’s face fell a little. “Shame,” she said, shoving her pad of paper back in her shoulder bag. “The General of the United Forces falling for the daughter of Amon’s biggest fan? Now that would be a story. I bet the Firelord would blow her lid, too.” Jin-Woo looked back up at Asami. “No offense.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami thought about what Jin-Woo had said the entire ride back to the hotel. She didn’t know how she could have been so blind. The way her society friends had kicked her to the curb after her father’s arrest. The constant questions from reporters, not just about Hiroshi Sato, but about her own potential connections to the Equalists. Even Tenzin’s suspicion over the phone when she’d gone missing. There was no denying it. Even though she was innocent, Asami was damaged goods. Damaged goods that might damage Iroh as well.</p><p>Apparently, despite her best efforts last night, the rumors that there was something going on between them had persisted. But Asami realized that she had only been thinking of Iroh, and that it might make him smile his adorable smile if he got to dance with a few pretty girls and take his mind off things. She hadn’t even considered what his being connected to her, even by mistake, might do to his reputation. A scandal in the papers. The wrath of Firelord Izumi. Maybe that’s what Tenzin had been worried about all along. It wasn’t that Iroh didn’t need a fling. It was that he most definitely did not need a fling with someone like her.</p><p>At the same time, she was also having some rather uncomfortable thoughts. Using words like “adorable” and “Iroh” in the same sentence, for example. Or remembering the warmth of his hand on her waist as they danced, or the laugh in his voice as he yelled, red-faced and sweating, that his grandma Mai was a faster runner than she was. Iroh stretched out on the couch, all long and lean and relaxed, his dorky glasses balanced on the end of his nose as he read through his endless briefings. Iroh eating the last cherry on his ice cream, leaving a small smear of chocolate on his lips. Using words like “Iroh” and “lips” in the same sentence, too.</p><p>Lie #8: I Have Absolutely No Interest in General Iroh.</p><p>This was… not good. It was like Asami hadn’t been able to see that she wanted Iroh until the young reporter had pointed out that she couldn’t have him. She’d been right, too. Asami couldn’t get involved with him. For one, Iroh was leaving. He said himself that he spent most of his time with the fleet. Between that and his life in the Fire Nation, he would hardly ever be in Republic City. For another, there was the match itself. Jin-Woo might be inexperienced, but she had a reporter’s instincts, and she hadn’t been wrong that someone in Iroh’s position dating the daughter of an accused (and obviously guilty) terrorist would more than raise eyebrows. It would be a public embarrassment. It might even compromise his role in the United Forces. Then there was also his obligation to the Fire Nation. Iroh was probably expected to date other royalty, or nobility, or at the very least people from his own country. It was all so obvious even stodgy old Tenzin had seen it. </p><p>Asami also didn’t want to ruin their friendship. Living in the penthouse together had almost immediately pushed them past any kind of formality. Iroh had held her hair while she puked. He’d seen her in no makeup, in sweatpants, noted the way she chewed on the ends of her pencils when she was thinking. He’d read what she’d written in the margins of <em> The Lies We Tell Ourselves, </em> and had given his advice freely and honestly. And she knew him as well. How he slurped at his tea, what he smelled like after a workout, that he hated wearing shoes and always took them off as soon as he could. The way he was always fussing with his hair and eating everything in sight. She’d held his hand while he cried. But dating would change all of that. Boyfriends and friends were different. Asami would have to look nice all the time. Living in the hotel room with him would suddenly be a scandal. They’d go on dates instead of sharing cherry sodas and dumplings out of a take-away container. And what if it didn’t work out? She’d lose a lover as well as a friend, and be left with no one at all.</p><p>But mostly, her interest seemed painfully one-sided. Iroh had already said that he had more or less everything he wanted in life. He’d also just gotten out of a serious relationship, a relationship he’d decided to end, and seemed in no hurry to dive into another. Besides, the man commanded an army. He clearly had no trouble being decisive, or communicating those decisions to others. She and Iroh had also been more or less in one another’s company for almost a week. If he wanted more, he’d have said so by now. Instead, at every opportunity he’d called her a friend. </p><p>Iroh would be gone in two days. And she, Asami, would simply have to hold it together until then.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami didn’t go back to the penthouse. Instead, she parked the X-11 in the hotel garage and made her way out to the street. She’d already changed into a sober gray suit she’d had out at the estate, so there was nothing she needed upstairs. More importantly, though Iroh had said earlier that week that they might go to the hearing together, they hadn’t made any specific plans. Per their agreement, that meant she was fine to go on her own. And at the moment it seemed like the less that she and Iroh were seen doing together, the better.</p><p>The Republic City Department of Justice took up the 4th-6th floors of the building that also housed the Republic City police. It was a huge building, done in the same sandstone and columned style as the bank. It loomed across the park from City Hall and took up nearly the entire northeast side of the square. As she made her way up the stairs, Asami tried once again not to be nervous. It was only a statement; a statement that, along with dozens of others, would be used to determine if the case against the Equalists would go to trial. That was almost a foregone conclusion. And the information she’d be sharing wasn’t anything she hadn’t already told the Avatar, or the police, or Jin-Woo just now for that matter. It was low stakes. Low, low stakes. Hardly anything. By the time she’d reached the 4th floor, Asami was shaking.</p><p>“Asami!” called a deep voice as soon as she turned the corner that led to the courtrooms. There was a scuffle and the sound of clinking chains. “Asami!”</p><p><em> No. Iroh promised! </em> She turned towards the voice, not wanting to but compelled all the same. Hiroshi Sato’s angry brown eyes glared at her from behind gold-rimmed glasses. He was dressed in a dusty no-color jumpsuit, his hands and feet in long manacles. A guard stood on either side of him holding his arms as he struggled and shouted.</p><p>“Asami, how could you do this to me?” her father roared. “All I wanted was a better world for you, for both of us! And here you are to put me away, to take my company! To marry that firebending street rat and fill my house with your <em> freak </em> children. Your mother would be ashamed of you. Ashamed!”</p><p>There was a sound of boots pounding on stone and then someone stepped in front of the prisoner, blocking him entirely from view with his body. “That’s quite enough,” Iroh growled. His voice was low and deadly. “One more word and I’ll show you a real firebender.” He turned to the guards. “Get him out of here,” he snapped. <em> “Now.” </em>Then he nodded sharply to an open door and said softly, “Go on in, Asami.”</p><p>Asami nearly ran through the door and shoved it closed behind her. She was still reeling. Her father. Her father was here. Her father was here and she’d been right, he hated her, he <em> hated </em>her, and there was nothing that Asami could do about it. She slid into an open bench near the front of the room, trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the hallway, and stared at her knees, breathing hard. </p><p>Iroh slammed open the door a minute later. Asami looked up to see him stalk down the aisle of the small courtroom. “What the <em> fuck </em> was that, Lin?” he shouted.</p><p>Chief Beifong glared at the approaching Iroh, her green eyes daggers. “That, <em> General </em> Iroh, is what you get when the RCPD is overworked, understaffed, and not in charge of this hearing. Judge Ahn is running late today and everything backed up. If you don’t like it, take it up with Justice. And if you don’t show a little more respect, you can do it from the inside of a cell.”</p><p>Iroh waved his hand at Asami. “And how do you think that made her feel? How is this not intimidating a witness?”</p><p>Chief Beifong pressed her lips into a thin line. “This is a hearing. There <em> are </em> no witnesses. And I’ve seen enough of Miss Sato to very much doubt that she’s intimidated.” </p><p>Iroh looked over at her and she tried to smile. It was only then that he seemed to realize he’d been yelling in front of the entire room. It wasn’t crowded, but in addition to Asami there were perhaps a dozen clerks, officers, and other court officials scattered throughout the courtroom. He flushed to the roots of his dark hair, then mumbled something vaguely apologetic. </p><p>“Have a seat, General,” said the chief, her voice firm but a little kinder. “Or better yet, go ask her yourself. We’ll begin in a few minutes.” Without another word, she turned and exited through the small door at the front of the courtroom. Asami was fairly sure the two guards who’d lost control of her father were about to have a very bad day.</p><p>Iroh slid into the bench beside her. “Are you all right?” he whispered. His golden eyes had a look of deep concern, but he was clearly trying to be quiet after his outburst.</p><p>“I’m fine. I was only surprised is all.”</p><p>“It was damned unprofessional is what it was,” Iroh muttered. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” </p><p>“Thanks,” said Asami. “And thank you for stepping in. Chief Beifong is right, I’m not going to let my father intimidate me, but it was nice of you all the same. I kind of froze.” </p><p>“Of course. I can’t imagine how hard all of this is for you.”</p><p>“You’re a good friend, Iroh.”</p><p>A ghost of a smile flitted across his face as he gave her hand another squeeze. “I do what I can.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The air battle with the Equalists sounded so much worse the way Iroh told it. Whereas Bumi, and even the newspapers, had dramatized the events, Iroh gave a blow-by-blow accounting with dispassionate, military precision. Which airplane he’d been on, and where. How he’d overcome the pilot, destroyed the aircraft, or both. The many times he’d almost fallen, or been shot, or exploded. The fact that he hadn’t known that he could fly using firebending until he’d bailed from the plane, and had fully expected to do little more than get one final shot at the other aircraft as he hurtled to his death. If Iroh had been scared, or felt any regrets, or had even so much as hesitated before being willing to give his life for the Forces, he didn’t say it. Instead, he spoke as if everything he had done, each incredible, selfless feat, had been as high-stakes as ordering breakfast.</p><p>He’d been the last to give his statement. Perhaps hoping that getting it over with was a kindness, Asami had been called up first. With some prompting from two blue-suited lawyers who looked nearly interchangeable, she’d recounted the events of the hangar, from the time that Iroh planned the attack with the rest of Team Avatar to when she and Bolin had returned to Republic City, her bound and unconscious father strapped to the back of Korra’s polar bear dog, Naga. She tried to be as brief and factual as possible, and was ultimately grateful that she’d had a bit of a dry run with the woman from the <em> Water County Herald </em> earlier that day. Every time Asami got to the difficult parts—the things Hiroshi Sato had said to them in the jail cell, or how he’d ultimately tried to kill her with his mecha tank—she found herself looking at Iroh. He’d give her a slight nod and an encouraging smile, and she’d somehow get through it.</p><p>Bolin had also given a statement. He must have come in the back while she’d been talking to Iroh. The poor man seemed even more nervous than she was. He’d stuttered his way through his story, confirming most of what she’d said in his own words since they’d been together nearly the entire time. When he was done he’d practically skittered off the bench. </p><p>Yet as Iroh walked to the front of the room to give his own recounting, Bolin slid into the bench beside her. His hands twitched awkwardly in his lap. </p><p>“Hey,” he whispered. His big green eyes met hers. “Are you going to punch me if I sit here?”</p><p>Asami let out a short laugh. “Hi, Bolin. No, I’m fresh out of punches today. Go ahead.” Bolin smiled and relaxed a little. They didn’t say anything after that as Iroh started his testimony, but Asami found that she didn’t mind the company. She didn’t really have anything against Bolin. In a lot of ways, he and Mako had been like her and her father. For most of Bolin’s life, his older brother had been all that he’d had, his only family. Of course when they’d broken up he’d sided with Mako instead of her. It was unfair of her to expect anything else. </p><p>Iroh finished, but as he exited the stand Chief Beifong motioned him over. Asami started to get up, then thought about how he’d stood up for her earlier and sat back down. It would be rude to simply disappear on him.</p><p>“Asami,” Bolin said beside her. “It’s really good to see you.”</p><p>She turned to face him and realized with a start that the feeling was mutual. She gave him a smile. “It’s good to see you, too. I’m sorry if I’ve been avoiding you. I just… I needed some space.”</p><p>“No, I get it,” he said. “What Mako and Korra did was shitty. Mako is my brother and my teammate and my best friend, and I can still say that. He can be a bit thoughtless. They both can. I mean, they did it to me, too, remember? That first kiss was right after Korra and I went on a date, and I mean <em> right </em> after.”</p><p>Asami had forgotten about that. “How long did it take you to forgive them?”</p><p>Bolin smiled and hooked a thumb at his chest “You know me. I’m invincible.” Then his face fell a little. “Okay, so there was a part in there where I cried a lot and screamed at Mako and ate three noodle bowls by myself. But after a few days I got over it. Mako is my brother, and Korra’s my friend. If being together is what makes them happy, I want that for them.” He grinned. “Besides, Pabu is the love of my life. Aren’t you, Pabu?” There was a chittering sound from underneath Bolin’s jacket.</p><p>“You… you brought Pabu to a hearing?”</p><p>“Sure I did.” Bolin reached inside his jacket and made a scratching motion. A lump Asami hadn’t noticed on his right side wiggled a little. “I needed the moral support.”</p><p>Asami thought about how Iroh had held her hand at the beginning of the proceedings and all through Bolin’s testimony. “Yeah. Moral support helps.”</p><p>Bolin’s eyes flicked behind her to where Iroh was still deep in conversation with Chief Beifong. It was like he’d somehow read her mind. “So, can I ask you something? What’s with the whole General Iroh thing?” Asami narrowed her eyes and he held up both hands defensively. “I’m not butting in! I swear. I just… Mako said you two have been spending a lot of time together, and I noticed you were holding hands and stuff. I just wanted to make sure that he’s not, you know, taking advantage of you.”</p><p>Asami shook her head. “No, he’s not. He was there when I needed a friend, that’s all.” That <em> was </em> all. That had to be all. “And I think maybe he needed one, too.”</p><p>“Okay,” Bolin said. “But you know, you still have friends, Asami. When you’re ready.”</p><p>“Thanks, Bolin. That means a lot to me.”</p><p>“Am I interrupting?” said a voice behind her. Asami turned to see Iroh standing in the aisle, his hands clasped behind his back. </p><p>“No, no, of course not, General Iroh, sir,” Bolin said. He’d always seemed to find Iroh a tiny bit intimidating. </p><p>Iroh nodded. “Good. I just wanted to tell Asami that I have some more business I need to take care of here, but am free later if she wants to, um, collaborate. Alimentarily.”</p><p>Asami stifled a laugh. <em> Collaborate alimentarily? </em> He was clearly hoping not to tip off Bolin, who was looking at both of them with a puzzled expression on his face. She should probably say no just so that she and Iroh wouldn’t be seen out at dinner together again, but she found it impossible to turn down such a ridiculous request. And their getting together after the hearing wouldn’t seem so unusual, right? Suddenly Asami’s stomach growled and she remembered that she hadn’t had anything since the granola bar. Maybe having an excuse for a larger dinner was a good thing, too.</p><p>“I’d love to collaborate, General,” she said with a smirk. “But try not to be too late. I’m running dangerously low on aliments.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami’s eyes flew open. She was breathing hard, her heart hammering in her chest, her whole body rigid as the dark room swam slowly into focus. It was okay. She was in her bed at the hotel, not the jail cell at the hangar. She wasn’t tied up. And Korra had most definitely not ordered Naga to eat her. </p><p>She looked around, trying to see if it was worth going back to sleep or almost morning, but there was no clock in the room. It was then that she heard it. It sounded like a whispered conversation outside her door. Asami snuck out of bed and pressed her ear to the door. Yes, those were definitely voices, but they were too low for her to hear what they were saying. Moving as quietly as she could she cracked open the door.</p><p>Iroh sat balled at the far end of his couch in nothing but a t-shirt and athletic shorts. He had his knees tucked up underneath his chin, both arms wrapped around his shins. His short black hair stuck up all over, as if he’d spent most of the night running his hands through it. Propped up on the end table next to him was a small radio. There, at least one mystery solved. It was obvious that the talking she’d heard was coming from the device.</p><p>Iroh’s head snapped towards her at the sound of the door. So much for being quiet. His eyes were wide and staring. “Oh,” he said softly. “Hi. Did I wake you?” </p><p>“Iroh? Is everything okay?”</p><p>“Yes.” His voice had a tense quality to it she wasn’t used to. He reached over to the radio and turned down the volume so it was only a whisper.</p><p>“What are you still doing up?”</p><p>He gave her a weak smile. “Can’t sleep. I can turn off the radio though. I thought I had it low enough you wouldn’t hear.”</p><p>“No, it’s all right. I was up anyway.” She hesitated, then walked over and sat next to him on the couch, tucking her legs under her so she was facing him sideways. “What’s keeping you up?”</p><p>“It’s stupid,” he said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. </p><p>“What if I told you that I just had a nightmare about being eaten by Naga? Would it still sound stupid then?”</p><p>Iroh smiled. It looked slightly more genuine this time. “That doesn’t sound fun. You okay?”</p><p>“I’m not actually being devoured by a polar bear dog, so yes. So what’s going on?”</p><p>“Falling,” Iroh said. He shook his head a little, his smile vanishing. “Every time I close my eyes I feel like I’m falling from the plane again. Only my firebending doesn’t work and I keep… I keep going.”</p><p>“Oh, Iroh.” She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He was actually shaking. She gave him a squeeze.</p><p>He shook his head again. “No, it’s fine. It’s a… it’s not all that uncommon. In the United Forces, among men and women who’ve seen combat. And it fades with time. Honestly, I haven’t even thought about the airplanes in more than a week. I think going over it all again at the hearing today brought it back, that’s all. I’ve always had more imagination than was good for me.” He inclined his head toward the radio. “So, I’m distracting myself. I don’t want to keep you up though. The reception in my room isn’t great but I can manage.”</p><p>“What are you listening to?” Asami asked. She pulled her arm back and settled into the couch. </p><p>“You ever heard of ‘Shadow and Flame’?”</p><p>“It sounds like a romance.”</p><p>Iroh frowned at her. “I am <em> not </em> sitting by myself in the dark listening to a romance, Asami. Give me a little credit as a guy.”</p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with you listening to a romance, Iroh. I won’t judge.” Asami threw her arms wide, then pitched her voice high in a breathy whisper. “Oh Captain! Instead of falling out of a plane, fall into my arms!” </p><p>Iroh snorted. “You’re terrible. But no. It’s a serial. The main character is this firebending detective who plays by the rules during the day but at night does whatever it takes to bring in the criminals he can’t collar by lawful means. It’s not an approach I approve of in real life, but it makes for a good drama and it’s well-acted. It’s from the Fire Nation though, so this far east it comes on in the middle of the night. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it.”</p><p>“If you say it’s good, do you mind if I listen in? I like a good story, and I’m not particularly tired, either.”</p><p>“Of course not.” Iroh unwound himself a little and fluffed up the couch pillow he’d had propped against the arm rest, then patted the spot next to him with a smile. “Come aboard. There’s always room for more friends on the good ship Insomniac. I don’t want to turn the radio up though. It’s pretty late.”</p><p>Asami scooted a little closer, then leaned back against the cushions. Iroh adjusted the knob slightly, presumably returning it to the volume it had been at before. A deep voice spoke quietly but clearly through the speakers. </p><p>
  <em> “I understand there is little time to lose. I must know the whole story, the truth, if I am to help you...” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami opened her eyes. It was still dark. </p><p>She was lying on her side on the couch, one arm wrapped around Iroh’s waist. At some point he’d wedged himself between her and the back of the sofa and had an arm draped over her side as well. Her head was tucked up against him, her face pressed between his chin and his warm chest. She could feel him breathing, deep and slow. Far below, his bare feet had somehow tangled in hers. The radio was still on, but ‘Shadow and Flame’ was clearly long over. Instead, a single tsungi horn played a quiet tune through the speakers.</p><p>For a moment Asami just lay there, frozen. There was nothing sexual about what they were doing, yet it was very intimate all the same. It was also very comfortable. That wasn’t a word she would have used to describe Iroh even a few days ago, but as she lay next to him in the dark she knew it was true. Iroh was comfortable. He was warm. He smelled nice, a combination of man and t-shirt that was oddly relaxing. She remembered thinking he looked like he was carved out of stone, but asleep his body felt soft, rather like a firm pillow. The arm curled around her back was heavy, but in a good way, like being tucked under a thick blanket in winter. The whole thing made her feel safe, somehow. Whatever sleep she’d had had been dreamless.</p><p>Asami couldn’t remember how they’d gotten like that though. At some point Iroh had asked if he could stretch out as his foot had gone to sleep. And after that she’d what? Just fallen over? Asami had always been a heavy sleeper, and she couldn’t remember the end of the radio play, either. There had been something about a doctor? But considering how little rest she’d gotten the night before, maybe it wasn’t a surprise that once she’d relaxed a little she’d gone right back to sleep. </p><p>For a moment she considered staying where she was. It felt so nice. But she couldn’t let Iroh wake up like this. That would be awkward to say the least. Slowly, carefully, Asami pulled back her arm and feet, then rolled away. Iroh’s own arm thumped to the cushions and he made a small noise in the back of his throat. But he didn’t wake. Asami sat up, then walked around the coffee table to the other couch. She took the throw blanket off the back and came back to where Iroh still slept. Without her he’d rolled a little onto his stomach, black hair still sticking up in all directions, his face now pressed deep into the couch pillow. Asami smiled. She hoped he could breathe like that. She shook out the blanket, then draped it carefully over him. It didn’t entirely cover him, he was so tall, but she did as best she could. Then she walked back to her own room and shut the door.</p><p>It was a long time before she slept again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Friday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Iroh gets a phone call and a hearing. Asami tries to make amends with Korra. Iroh finds an old palace, a new look, and a pet. An attempted kiss, a fight, and an attempted kiss.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is the chapter that bumps the rating up to M, both for violence and sex. Nothing too explicit, and I could probably get away with T, but would rather over-rate than under. If that's not your jam, get as far as the nightclub and then skip ahead.</p><p>TW for assault, attempted sexual assault, and references to patterns of sexual assault in the military.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asami yawned and opened the door. Judging from the bright light pouring in through the windows, it was quite late. It seemed that once she’d finally fallen asleep again her exhaustion had caught up with her. </p><p>Iroh was nowhere to be seen, but Asami heard the faint sound of the shower through his bedroom door. A pot of tea and a few used dishes sat on the rounded table along with a napkin-covered basket. She must have missed the workout window then, and breakfast besides. Asami thought with some regret about the enormous amount of sushi she’d put away last night at the tiny place she and Iroh had eventually gone to dinner. Well. She could always go exercise now. It wasn’t like she had any plans today.</p><p>She was just about to go change when the room’s telephone rang from the second desk. Asami stopped, unsure what to do. It rang again, the harsh sound cutting through the morning quiet. If someone was trying to reach Iroh in his room, it might be important. At the same time, it was still his room. What would whoever it was think if she answered instead? After all, it could just as easily be Tenzin again.</p><p>The telephone rang three more times, then fell silent. Asami breathed a sigh of relief. She got two steps towards her door before it rang again. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over to the desk.</p><p>“General Iroh’s residence,” she said in her most businesslike tone. “May I take a message?” <em> Please don’t let it be Tenzin, </em> she thought. <em> Please. </em></p><p>“A… message?” said a confused-sounding woman’s voice. </p><p>“Yes. The general is unavailable at the moment, but if you’d like to leave your name and number, I—”</p><p>“Residence? I was under the impression that Iroh was staying at a hotel. Is this a hotel?” She did not sound pleased.</p><p>“Yes, ma’am. The Grand Republic. Like I said, the general is not available at the moment, but—”</p><p>“And who are you?” the woman cut in. “Who are you, and what are you doing in my son’s hotel room at…” There was a pause, as if she was checking the time. “Nine-fifteen in the morning?”</p><p>My son’s hotel room. My <em> son’s </em>hotel room. Oh fuck. This was so much worse than Tenzin.</p><p>“I… um…” Asami started. She heard a door click and looked over to see Iroh striding across the room, hair dripping lightly onto his t-shirt, one fist holding a towel firmly around his waist. She tried not to look. “Actually, ma’am, here’s the general now,” she said quickly. Asami shoved the receiver at Iroh and mouthed “sorry.”</p><p>“Iroh,” he said. There was muffled yelling from the other end and he blanched. “No! No, mother, it’s not what you… yes. Work stuff.” He glanced up at Asami. “My chief engineer. We were going over the list of repairs for the fleet. Getting an early start. I was in the bathroom.” More talking from the other end. “Mother, please. We all live in very close proximity. Yes, I know she’s a lady.” Iroh met Asami’s eyes and smirked a little. “I assure you, she’s done far worse in the bathroom recently. No, I’m not going to apologize when it’s true.” Asami stuck out her tongue. </p><p>Iroh sagged into the chair at the desk. “Thanks,” he said. “No, no plans, 24 isn’t a big one.” Then he frowned into the receiver. “No, you don’t need to call Tenzin. I’m serious, please don’t.” He paused, unconsciously shaking his head. “I know he would. You know, actually, I forgot. I do have plans tonight. Some friends are taking me out.” Another pause. “Where?” He looked over at Asami and mouthed the word “help.”</p><p>Asami shrugged. “A show?” she said, trying to keep her voice down so that it wasn’t picked up by the telephone. </p><p>“We’re going to a play,” Iroh said. “Um…” <em> Which play? </em></p><p>“Llorca,” said Asami quickly. It had been her father’s favorite. It was technically an opera, but she hoped it was close enough.</p><p>“Llorca,” Iroh repeated. “No, I don’t know what it’s about. That would spoil the surprise. I’m glad you liked it. Yes, I’ll report back.” Another pause. Iroh’s face relaxed a little. “Yes, of course. I love you, too.” Then he hung up.</p><p>“What was all that about?” Asami asked. </p><p>Iroh made a heavy sigh, then rubbed at his face. “My mother.”</p><p>“I’d guessed that much. But why are you faking having plans tonight?”</p><p>“Oh.” Suddenly he wouldn’t meet her eye. “Technically, it’s my birthday.”</p><p>“Technically?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“But why don’t you want any plans?” That seemed ridiculous. Asami loved birthdays. “It’s Friday. You’re leaving town tomorrow, right? Seems like the perfect evening to celebrate.”</p><p>“Maybe.” He shrugged a little. “But like I said, I don’t really know anybody. Most of the able-bodied men and women in the Forces have already shipped out. Even Bumi left yesterday. I’m only still here as commander.” Iroh looked down, a sudden bitter expression on his face. “Everyone I know who’s still here is at KHA. Or… awaiting arrangements.”</p><p>Asami’s heart twisted. Of course he had lost friends in the attack. Iroh might be the general now, but he’d grown up in the United Forces. She thought of how upset he’d been Tuesday night. The people he’d visited, the horrible injuries, they hadn’t all just been his soldiers. No wonder he had nightmares. Abruptly her own feud with Mako and Korra seemed selfish. They’d both nearly died in the fight with Amon as well. Maybe it was time to stop being angry and start being grateful that her own friends were all living and healthy and whole. Clearly not everyone had that.</p><p>“Anyway,” Iroh said, pushing his sopping hair out of his face, “thanks for the help. The last thing I need is the Firelord telling Tenzin and Pema to throw me a party. I love the guy like an uncle, but he’s got four kids of his own, and a new baby. Don’t tell him this, but his bunch are a handful, and a few hours of them crawling all over me just isn’t how I want to spend my evening. Besides, I need to pack anyway.” Iroh took a long look around the penthouse. His expression was almost sad. “It seems like it went by so fast, but I’ve actually been here a while. My things are probably all over the place. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so I need to be sure to find everything.”</p><p>All of a sudden, Asami didn’t care what other people might think. One look at Iroh’s dejected face and even the Firelord’s angry accusations faded to so much noise. He was still her friend, her good friend. She wasn’t going to let him be alone in a strange place on his birthday, packing up his things and believing no one in Republic City cared about him or thought he was special. Besides, tomorrow he’d still be gone. What was one night of fun between friends?</p><p>“You don’t know nobody, Iroh,” she said. “You know me. And I’m taking you out.” </p><p>Iroh’s cheeks went a little pink. “Asami, you don’t have to do that. I’m not… I wasn’t fishing for plans, if that’s what you think. I really do have to pack.”</p><p>“Iroh, you’re in the military. Do you really expect me to believe it’ll take you more than 15 minutes to pack? Besides, you’ll have all morning tomorrow.” </p><p>“Really, it’s not a big deal.” </p><p>“Fine,” said Asami. “Then take me out. I don’t have any plans tonight, and after yesterday’s hearing I could use some fun.” She paused. “But I’m not going to see Llorca. I actually can’t stand opera.” </p><p>Iroh chuckled a little. “All right. Twist my arm. And no opera. What do you want to do?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It turned out that Iroh was free not only that evening but a lot of the day. Since the ships were being repaired instead of replaced, the work he had originally planned for Friday—meeting with shipwrights, writing up various acquisitions, approving costs—was now largely unnecessary. The repairs themselves had already been assessed and budgeted as part of his original decision to sink the fleet. With the funding in place, there was little left to do but get started.</p><p>In fact, the only thing he had pressing turned out to be another hearing that morning. Iroh hadn’t told her about it before because she wasn’t required, but to Asami it sounded nothing short of awful. His statement this time would be about the other area of the Equalist battle where he’d played a major role; the initial attack itself. He’d be forced to talk about things she knew he still blamed himself for, like not thinking that the bay could be mined or not bringing down the airplanes fast enough. Given what Iroh had said about some of his friends just that morning, he would also have to relive events that had cost him more than just his ships and peace of mind. Men and women he’d known his entire career had died in that attack. Not to mention the fact that he himself had been wounded and nearly drowned.</p><p>Given that was, quite possibly, the worst birthday present she could imagine, Asami resolved to try and make the rest of the day as lighthearted and fun as possible. With a little prompting and quite a few assurances that it was no trouble, Iroh agreed to let her worry about planning the activities so that he could focus on his statement. They resolved to meet outside of the RCPD building after the hearing and go from there. Iroh stuffed one final roll in his mouth from the napkin-covered basket on the breakfast table, nudged the rest towards Asami, and headed out.</p><p>All that still meant several hours to herself. Asami looked longingly at the couch, imagining curling up there with a coffee and her puzzles and a throw blanket that almost certainly did not smell like Iroh, then shook her head. No. Remember Lie #3. She wasn’t too old to start new habits, and that included setting the tone for the day with exercise and focusing on herself. Asami might once have lain around all morning like a bum, thinking about her failed relationships and her dismal future, but Imasa wouldn’t. Imasa was strong. Imasa was self-reliant. Imasa was going to get the life that <em> she </em> wanted. And Imasa most definitely did not spend her time moping after tall, hot, smiling, brave firebenders, whether Mako or otherwise. That was the old her. Lie #1: You Cannot Change.</p><p>Asami took one last look at the couch, then walked back to the bedroom to get her workout gear.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>The weather turned out to be lovely. There was no sign at all of the previous day’s rain. Instead, the sun shone clear and bright through a smattering of puffy white clouds. The air was noticeably cooler, too, as if yesterday’s rainstorm had been the last violent act of Republic City’s bloody summer. Instead, the crisp late-morning breeze that whistled down the avenues was pure autumn. </p><p>Asami walked the six blocks to the large park between City Hall and the Republic City Police Department, one hand wrapped firmly around a take-away coffee. It was becoming a familiar trip; between her shopping, errands, meals with Iroh, their morning runs, and the hearing, she’d been back and forth between the Grand Republic Hotel and the park a dozen times or more. For the first time, she wondered what it might be like to actually live downtown, like Bolin and Mako now did following the collapse of the bending arena, rather than out at the estate. Most wealthy people lived in large houses on the outskirts of the Republic City, with plenty of room for their pools and vintage satos and strings of polo ostrich-horses. But Asami didn’t really need any of that. Iroh’s penthouse had proven to be more than enough space for her, even shared. Or maybe especially shared. As long as she had access to someplace to tinker, perhaps an arrangement like Mako and Bolin had was exactly what Asami’s new life needed.</p><p>But that was a question for later. In the meantime, she had more pressing concerns. Iroh was checking out of the Grand Republic tomorrow, and with him would go Asami’s access to the penthouse. Even though that was less than 24 hours away now, she still hadn’t decided where she would go after that. Back to the estate was the obvious answer. With her interview in the <em> Water County Herald </em> coming out that morning, it wasn’t likely she’d be hounded by reporters for much longer. Everything Asami had to say had been said, and they’d soon move on if they hadn’t already. Yet the idea of rolling around in her huge empty house didn’t sound any more appealing to her than it had on Sunday. </p><p>The other option was to stay in another room at the Grand Republic, or maybe a different hotel altogether. It would be close to shops and restaurants and other distractions and, for whatever reason, didn’t feel quite so pathetic as living in a 29-room mansion alone. Yet without Iroh around it might wind up being just as lonely all the same. The only difference would be the $400 yuans a night she paid for the privilege.</p><p>Either way, for the moment the sunshine was nice, and Asami still had some time to think it over. Despite the decision before her, neither option which sounded ideal, she would be lying if the prospect of a free day with Iroh hadn’t put a bounce in her step. However complicated her feelings of late, they still enjoyed each other’s company, and it was also a chance to fulfill the promise she’d made to show him some of the city. Maybe she’d even ask Iroh’s opinion on where she should go next. After all, it sounded like he spent a lot of his shore weeks in various hotels, but had also grown up in a palace, so he’d know better than most what the trade-offs were between the two setups. The idea made her smile. It was nice having someone she trusted for advice.</p><p>Her good mood didn’t last though. As Asami crossed the park to the front of RCPD she spotted a small knot of people at the base of the wide stairs. Her heart sank. Reporters. She’d been lucky enough yesterday to somehow miss them, likely because of what Chief Beifong had said about the hearing schedule being backed up. If her father had been giving his statement only minutes before herself they’d have been camped out by the side entrance the guards used to load and unload prisoners coming from RCP. And Bolin had taken her out a back exit, unfortunately only one-way, which apparently he’d known about from the few times he’d been pinched as a Triple Threat. But there’d be no getting past the press this time. Even if Asami wasn’t the flavor of the month anymore, there was no doubt about whether they’d sieze opportunity if she walked right by them.</p><p>Yet she’d promised Iroh she’d meet him out front. If she wasn’t there, there was a chance that he’d think she had forgotten, or worse, that she’d miss him entirely. Asami thought for a moment about trying to wait in the park instead; Iroh was dressed in his red uniform again, and wouldn’t be hard to pick out of a crowd. But would he understand? Or would he only think her a coward? After all, what was a woman who couldn’t face a couple of reporters to a man who had run to the tallest tower of his ship to firebend at a squadron of bomb-laden airplanes?</p><p>
  <em> Lie #9: Avoiding the Hard Things is the Same as Conquering Them </em>
</p><p>Asami marched resolutely towards the steps. </p><p>“Miss Sato!” shouted a brown-eyed man with enormous sideburns. He jogged towards her and shoved a microphone roughly into her face. Asami batted it away. “Miss Sato! A few questions!” Then they were on her. They surrounded her, a blur of striped twill and shining metal, a cacophony of voices.</p><p>“Miss Sato, can you tell us—”</p><p>“Are you an Equalist, Miss Sato?”</p><p>“Are the rumors that—”</p><p>“What has Future Industries—”</p><p>“—General Iroh?”</p><p>Asami pushed past them. “Read it in the <em> Water County Herald, </em> boys,” she said, then strode up the steps to the door. She knew the press weren’t allowed past the bottom of the stairs. They could still shout questions at her though. It would be better to wait for Iroh inside. Asami gained the landing, walked as quickly as she could to the large central doors and yanked at the handle. </p><p>Korra tumbled out, one hand still wrapped around the inside bar. Apparently she’d been pushing on the exit at the same time Asami had pulled it. </p><p>“Oh!” Korra yelped, stumbling a little. She pinwheeled her arms as Asami dodged out of the way, just barely avoiding a collision. The Avatar seemed almost as surprised as she was. </p><p>“Sorry!” Asami said, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. “I wasn’t looking.”</p><p>“No, don’t worry about it,” said Korra. She straightened her overskirt a little, then glanced down the stairs to the reporters, who had started yelling “Avatar Korra!” as well. “Refusing to feed the lion vultures?”</p><p>Asami laughed a little. “More like running the gauntlet. The Satos aren’t very popular these days.”</p><p>Korra narrowed her eyes. “They can hardly blame <em> you </em> though, right?”</p><p>“You’d be surprised.”</p><p>Korra shook her head in disgust. “That’s such crap.” </p><p>“No worse than what you went through a month or two ago,” Asami said. “It’s not like the Avatar is always popular.”</p><p>“Good point.” Korra met her eyes and laughed, and for a moment it was almost as if nothing had happened. Then she looked down. “I, um, I’m sorry I didn’t say hello the other day. In the dress shop. Or at the gala. You seemed busy.”</p><p>Asami swallowed, then thought of Iroh’s missing friends. “That’s okay. How are you?”</p><p>Korra pursed her lips. “All right, I guess.” She nodded back to the doors. “That was rough though.” Of course, Korra would have made a statement at the hearing today as well. She’d played a major role in the battle, and was the principal reason that the entire fleet hadn’t been sunk outright. Not to mention the fact that she’d saved Iroh’s life when he’d been blasted from the top of his ship, and then healed his arm right after. Somehow Asami had forgotten that.</p><p>“Yeah, those are no fun. I’m sure you did great though.”</p><p>“Thanks,” said Korra. “It’s funny trying to describe it all afterwards. In the moment I’m just reacting, you know? Half the things other people said I did I hardly remember.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how General Iroh does it. When he tells it it’s like he’s reading from a log book.”</p><p>Asami laughed a little. “I know what you mean. We had ours yesterday, with Bolin. I think I did okay, I guess, and Bolin choked it out, but Iroh was perfect. It was a little embarrassing.”</p><p>Korra snickered. “Not as embarrassing as his dancing though. I saw what you did the other night, switching the lead like that half way through and dragging him around like a 6ft ragdoll. Honestly, I grew up in a compound in the South Pole and I think I’m better than he is.”</p><p>Asami giggled. It really had been rather funny. “Oh, he’s not so bad as all that. He’s a surprisingly good follow.” </p><p>“And I bet you give good instruction with all those lessons you took. Maybe next time General Iroh is in town he can get more of it. It’d probably do him good.”</p><p>“What would do me good?” asked Iroh. Asami spun to see him walking up to them, having apparently just come out of the far door. </p><p>“Dancing with Asami,” Korra said with a smile. </p><p>“I hardly think she needs to give me any more pity dances,” said Iroh lightly, though his ears went a little pink. Oh spirits, he must think they were making fun of him. </p><p>Asami stepped in, attempting to change the subject. “So how did it go?” </p><p>He shrugged. “About as well as yesterday. It’s nothing fun to talk about, but I hope it will help. I’ll do my best not to keep you up again tonight.”</p><p>Korra cocked her head a little, a strange expression on her face. Iroh immediately went beet red. He must have realized what he’d said and how it sounded. </p><p>“Anyway, I’ll, um, leave you two to it,” said Korra. She looked suddenly uncomfortable. “Um, see you around.” She turned and started walking quickly towards the stairs.</p><p>Asami felt her own face go hot. Well, so much for secrets. </p><p>
  <em> Lie #9... </em>
</p><p>“Wait.” Korra stopped and looked back, her two hair tails swinging slightly. “It’s not what you think. We’re just… collaborating this week. As friends.”</p><p>Korra only stared at her. </p><p>“Look,” Asami continued. “Iroh and I were going to go get some lunch. Nothing fancy, and we’re not going far. Do you… any chance you would want to come? We can explain our arrangement, and anyway it’s been a while. What do you say?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Honestly, it makes perfect sense,” Korra said. “It’s the modern era. I mean, I live out on Air Temple Island with Tenzin’s whole family and all those air acolytes, half of whom are guys. And General Iroh lives on a ship most of the year with men and women both. Why should it be such a big deal for either of you to have a roommate who happens to be the opposite sex? Especially if it’s just for a couple of days?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Asami said. “But everyone seems in such a hurry to make something out of it.”</p><p>“But there isn’t anything, right?”</p><p>Asami thought of waking up in the middle of the night, their arms wrapped around each other on the couch. She took a sip of her cola. “Of course not.”</p><p>“Well, then I’m all for it,” Korra said. “And I’ll stand up to Tenzin or the Firelord or anyone else who says otherwise.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Asami pushed her soda a few inches but didn’t drink it. “So how’s Mako?”</p><p>At first Korra didn’t say anything. She fiddled a little with her napkin instead, folding it in and out and in again. Asami wasn’t sure she knew she was doing it. Then she said quietly, “We don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”</p><p>Asami shook her head. “No, it’s okay. It might be awhile before I don’t want to slap him around a little, but he’s my friend. You both are. And maybe I know a little something about not being able to go home these days.”</p><p>Korra smiled. “Okay. He’s really good, actually. He and Bolin like the new place. It’s not much, but it beats living in an attic. They actually have bedrooms and stuff.”</p><p>Asami laughed a little. “That would have been handy. Congratulations on the upgrade.”</p><p>Korra blushed, but her blue eyes were smiling. “I imagine it makes a difference. Especially to Bolin.”</p><p>Iroh’s heavy steps sounded on the tile. “Here you go, ladies.” He placed a tray in the middle of the table, then after a moment’s hesitation slid into the booth next to Asami. He picked up a paper-wrapped burger and glanced at the scrawl on the top. “Extra boar-q-pine bacon?” he asked.</p><p>Korra snatched it. “Oh spirits, this is the best.” She started tearing into the wrapper. “I admire the airbenders, I really do, but if I have to eat one more sea bean burger with flax cheese I’m going to go crazy.”</p><p>Iroh laughed, then handed Asami her burger. “And no tomato carrot,” he said.</p><p>“Blech. Never. Those things should be banned.” </p><p>“A lot of strong opinions here, I see.” Iroh began to unwrap his own lunch. </p><p>“What’d you get?” Korra asked through a mouth full of food.</p><p>“Everything,” Iroh said happily. Asami studied his burger with growing horror. He wasn’t kidding. It seemed about four inches high and was stuffed with bacon and onions and lettuce and chiles and seaweed and spirits, were those <em> sea prunes? </em></p><p>“They even had ash banana,” he said, pointing to a gooey orange paste that was squirting out the side. “You hardly ever find ash bananas over here.”</p><p>“Iroh, you are truly appalling,” Asami said. He flashed her a grin, then took a huge bite of his disgusting sandwich. She was pretty sure he made a point to get a sea prune.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Korra left for the ferry after lunch with an invitation for Asami to come out to Air Temple Island the following week and a hug for Iroh, who she wouldn’t see again before he had to ship out. Asami had been a little worried he would ask her to tag along with them for the afternoon, but he hadn’t said anything about their plans and so neither had she. </p><p>“That was good of you,” he said, after Korra was out of sight.</p><p>“Good?”</p><p>“Yes. I know that things are… complicated, between you and Mako right now, and Korra, but your friends love you. Anyone can see that. So it’s good of you to let them in a little, even if you’re still angry. It’s a kindness. Being kept at arm’s length by someone you love is very hard.”</p><p>“Oh.” Asami hadn’t really thought of it like that. She remembered her father screaming at her in the hallway outside the courtroom. “I guess you’re right.”</p><p>“So, I was under the impression that I had no say in this afternoon’s activities,” Iroh said. The corner of his mouth turned up a little. “To what am I being subjected, if not Llorca?”</p><p>“Funny you should ask,” Asami said. “Follow me.”</p><p>She led him a few blocks uptown from City Hall, then hopped on the eastbound elevated train. “I didn’t know if you’d ridden this line,” she explained, “and anyway it’s a long walk.” Iroh said he hadn’t, then spent most of the 20 minute ride with his face pressed to the window, occasionally pointing out some building or feature and asking what it was. Asami was no expert, but had lived in Republic City her whole life and did as well as she could. Iroh, for his part, told her what he knew about the history of some of the stations and a few of the more famous landmarks. He knew a surprising amount for someone who had spent almost no time there, and somewhat sheepishly admitted to having read quite a few books on the structure of different cities. </p><p>“In a lot of ways, city planning, or even building design, is a lot like running an army,” he said. He’d just finished explaining, a little shyly, what he knew about the city’s rather unique pattern of streets, which turned out to be something Asami had never really thought about despite being an enthusiastic driver. “It’s almost impossible to be successful without a plan, but that plan has to be grounded in reality. What is the topography? Not just what you can see, but what you can’t, like how long it takes to reach bedrock or the weather in different seasons. There was a famous battle in the Fire Nation, oh, maybe 1,000 years ago, that was lost almost entirely because the general, General Sunzen, hadn’t factored in the rain in the mountains turning the lowlands to mud two days later. Thousands died. Because of rain.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I find it interesting. Optimizing under constraints. The intersection of what is and what can be. And how often something functional winds up being beautiful, too.”</p><p>“That’s actually a lot of what I like about engineering,” Asami said. She hadn’t thought to articulate it that way, but it was true enough. “I’ve always been more of a tinker than a real inventor. I like starting with a problem, then seeing what’s available that can solve it. My… my father is like that, too. He’ll tell anyone who will listen he’s an inventor, but it’s not really true. He’s an improver. There were wheeled mecha in the United Republic 10 years before the satomobile. All my family did was standardize the production process, find lower-cost materials, make it more comfortable, and invest in marketing. I actually think I’m a little better than he is, but it’s the same idea. We’re neither of us visionaries. I was simply the girl who thought we might get to Whale Tail island faster if our sato could fly.”</p><p>She looked outside the window. “All right, here we are.”</p><p>“Wait,” Iroh said as they got to their feet. “The airplanes were your idea?”</p><p>“Oh. You didn’t know?” Asami’s stomach clenched. <em> Why </em> had she mentioned that, of all things? After everything he had lost to those aircraft, the hearing today, his dreams...</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Iroh. I had no idea—”</p><p>He put a hand on her arm and cut her off. “I know,” he said. “I never thought you did. Come on, or we’ll miss the stop.” </p><p>She led Iroh down to the street. The buildings were shorter than in the center of the city, and a little run down. When they had gone a few blocks Asami pulled a map out of her purse. They went another two blocks, turned left, and found themselves in the center of a wide square. The center had been roped off, and upon closer inspection the pavement was entirely missing. </p><p>“So, are you going to tell me where we are yet?” Iroh asked, craning his neck. He didn’t sound frustrated, just curious. </p><p>“Well, you said you like architecture, and you like history, and you like military stuff, right?”</p><p>“Sure. Though the last is more of a professional necessity.”</p><p>“Then what if I told you that archeologists think that this was the outer guard room of the old royal residence at Mo Sea Ce?”</p><p>Iroh’s eyes widened. “No way! Lady Tienhai’s palace? I’d heard the rumors, but… wow.” He took two quick steps, then paused. “May I… do you know?”</p><p>Asami shrugged. “I assume that’s what the ropes are for. I think we can go at least as close as that.” </p><p>There wasn’t actually that much to look at in her opinion. There was a wide hole, perhaps 15 feet deep and twice as wide. The floor was mostly mud after yesterday’s rain, but the bottom of the northeast corner was covered in a series of white square tiles or stones. Portions of the edge of the hole sported crumbling brickwork that rose, at most, a few feet off the ground. And that was about it.</p><p>“This is fascinating,” Iroh breathed. Asami tried hard not to laugh. He looked like a kid who had been handed a sweet the size of his face and was trying to figure out just where to start. He pointed at two little brown ridges running parallel a few feet from one of the edges. “You see that? That’s probably why they think it’s the guardhouse. Not a lot of structures need a thick double-wall like that.” Then he pointed to something Asami didn’t even see. It just looked like mud. Perhaps it was a little darker? “And look at that! See the fireplace?”</p><p>“Um…”</p><p>Iroh turned to her, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to bore you. I’ve been told I can get a little carried away.” His shoulders slumped a little. “I’ll shut up.”</p><p>“No! Don’t stop. I just don’t have your eye yet.” Asami meant it, too. It wasn’t boring at all, and even if it was, she had a feeling that Iroh’s obvious enthusiasm would make it interesting all the same. It was a little confusing when it all looked like mud and rocks, but his excitement was infectious. Besides, though Asami might not care quite as much about the buildings themselves, it was awe-inspiring to think of how large some of them had gotten with technology from more than 5,000 years ago. From the information she had found on the site, the ancient palace itself might be 50 times as large as what they’d already uncovered. To do all that without mecha? It was unbelievable.</p><p>Asami put one hand on Iroh’s shoulder, then peered over the rope. “Can you show me? Just go slowly.”</p><p>“Okay,” he said. “So, if you start right below us…”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>They spent the first part of the train ride back in comfortable silence. It wasn’t quite evening yet, but close enough that the western mountains cast long shadows across the city. There weren’t many other riders, it still being a bit before rush hour and going into the city besides. In fact, after three stops, the only other people in their car were a young couple practically on top of one another at the opposite end. Two stops after that and they were noisily kissing, their arms wrapped around each other like a four-legged octopus.</p><p>Iroh was looking at them, a faint frown on his face. The woman’s hat fell to the floor.</p><p>“Sorry about that,” Asami said. “It’s not very polite. We can move if you’d like.”</p><p>He seemed to shake himself out of his thoughts. “Oh. No, it’s okay.” The corner of his mouth turned up into a half smile. “The whole idea of the United Republic is a place where people of all kinds can live together and thrive. It’s what I fight for.” He nodded towards the couple. “I suppose that includes the right to neck a little on the train. I don’t grudge them their happiness. Quite the opposite.”</p><p>Asami studied his face. Maybe now was finally the time to ask. “Iroh,” she said carefully, “you don’t have to tell me what happened. But if you want to talk, I’m here.”</p><p>He cocked his head at her. “Happened?”</p><p>“With your fiancée. What Tenzin told me at the gala. I’d assumed you’d overheard us.”</p><p>To her surprise Iroh laughed, but to her ear it sounded a little bitter. “Fiancée? That’s what he told you?”</p><p>Asami looked at him, puzzled. “Yeah.”</p><p>Iroh shook his head. “No. We were never engaged.”</p><p>“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”</p><p>“No, it’s all right. And it’s not really funny, I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just that…” Iroh trailed off, then tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling. He huffed out a frustrated breath. “Of course he’d think that. It’s probably what my mother told him. It’s what everyone wanted. Our relationship made all the sense in the world on paper. Our families were thrilled. And I meant to, I was going to, but in the end I just… couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to her, or to myself. I think it was the airplanes, actually. Something about almost dying a half dozen times makes you rethink what you’re doing once you realize you’re going to live. And I decided that I wanted to live.”</p><p>Asami had no idea what to say to that. Perhaps it was best to say nothing at all.</p><p>Iroh ran one hand through his hair. “Anyway, I suppose I got to thinking that I wanted more than that,” he said. “More than paper love. I know it sounds selfish, someone with all of my privileges wanting flattery on top of everything else. But I did. I do. So I didn’t. She’s a good woman. Just not for me.” He sighed. “Everyone’s pissed.”</p><p>It was the most Iroh ever said about his breakup, or even really about himself in one go. No wonder he hadn’t wanted to talk about it, with all of that bottled up inside.</p><p>“It’s not flattery, Iroh,” Asami said. “Of course you deserve to be with someone who loves you.” She didn’t understand someone who wouldn’t love Iroh, with his quiet ways and floppy hair and brilliant smile, given half a chance. She conveniently ignored the fact that a week ago she hadn’t, either. All Asami could think about was that whoever that other woman was was an idiot.</p><p>“Or not even that,” Iroh said quietly. “I’m not delusional. I know I’m not the most… interesting man, I suppose. I don’t say much. I work a lot, and I take that work seriously. My pleasures are simple.” He smiled a little. “Spirits, the highlight of my day was a hole in the ground. But I don’t think it’s too much to ask that the person I marry at least pretend that I am. Interesting, that is. At least for a little while.”</p><p>It was one of the most heartbreaking things Asami had ever heard. That Iroh somehow thought so little of his appeal that he’d settle for someone who was only pretending to care? All of a sudden his comments about her book, about how he had exactly the life that he wanted within reason, sounded like the worst kind of defeatism. All this week he’d been helping her think through her own problems, to forget the past and design her future, while he himself seemed to think “deciding to live” meant upgrading from a loveless relationship to maybe, eventually, one where he was passingly tolerated. I was absurd, and completely selfish on her part that she hadn’t seen it and done more to help him. </p><p>Well, that was going to stop now. Lie #10: Women Don’t Want Iroh.</p><p>Asami glanced outside and abruptly stood. “This is us.”</p><p>Iroh looked out the window and knitted his brows. “Aren’t we one more stop?”</p><p>“Nope,” she said. “Change of plans.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>As they made their way up 4th ave, Asami began to formulate a plan. It was Iroh’s birthday, and his last night in town. Anything he did tonight could easily be forgotten. Tenzin had said that the last thing he needed was a fling, but that was also Tenzin. It wouldn’t be hard, either. Iroh wasn’t wrong that he was shy and perhaps a bit out of the mainstream, but he was also very handsome. The people at a place like Spirits would eat him up. Hell, she could probably sell tickets. All he needed was the right presentation. Well. If there was one thing Asami had gotten a lot of practice with this week, it was shopping.</p><p>“What size are you?” she asked abruptly.</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“What size clothes are you, Iroh? The place I’m taking you tonight has a dress code, and nothing you own passes.” She cocked her head towards the wide glass window they’d been passing. Behind it, several mannequins dressed in coats and scarves displayed what must be the new fall line of fashion. The gold letters stenciled across the top of the window read: Oma’s Department Store.</p><p>“What do you mean, nothing I have passes?” he asked. “I haven’t found anywhere yet that will turn away someone in a United Forces uniform. It works just fine for formal, too.”</p><p>Asami shook her head and put her hand on the door. “Nope, not here. But don’t worry, I’m going to pick you out something. Come on.”</p><p>“You can’t be serious,” Iroh said, but he followed her in. </p><p>Asami frowned. “I’m perfectly serious. I’m dressing you up and then I’m taking you out. What kind of friend would I be if I let you spend your birthday looking like you’re at work?”</p><p>He looked down at his uniform. “But what’s wrong with this?”</p><p>“It’s lovely, Iroh. And I’m not taking you clubbing in it. We did it your way on Wednesday. If I had to wear a spirits-forsaken ball gown, you can at least let me pick you out a pair of pants.”</p><p>“Fine.” Iroh grudgingly gave her his measurements as they walked up the wide central aisle. “But two can play at this game. If I have to wear whatever you pick out for me, then you have to do the same.”</p><p>“Says who?” </p><p>“Says the woman who keeps insisting that it’s my birthday. What’s the place we’re going? For reference.” </p><p>Asami rolled her eyes. “Fine. It’s called Spirits. High-end nightclub. Think fancy but, well, young rich people fancy.” </p><p>Iroh set his jaw, looking for all the world like she’d given him orders to invade instead of letting him pick out a dress. “Got it.” </p><p>She gestured to a block of dressing rooms set a little away from the main aisle where they might expect at least some privacy. “I’ll meet you over there in 30 minutes. But no promises. If you come back with something awful I’m not wearing it no matter what day it is.”</p><p>Iroh gave her a tense nod, then trotted off towards the women’s department. Asami started sifting through the racks in men’s, looking for something that would make Iroh feel confident instead of like he was playing dress-up. She eventually settled on a pair of light gray wool trousers, cut slim but not too tight, and a thin black button-down shirt. Stylish, yet understated. Rather like Iroh, actually. Seeing that he wasn’t back yet she wandered over to the shoes and picked up a pair of soft black leather lace-up loafers. She had no idea what size his feet were, but he needed something better than his United Forces boots.</p><p>She came back from the shoe section to see Iroh sitting on the stuffed cushion just outside the dressing rooms. He had what looked like a gold dress draped over one arm. He stood when he saw her. “Ready for the great swap?” he said, and held out the dress. Asami gave him his clothes and they disappeared into opposite dressing rooms. </p><p>The dress Iroh had picked was not at all what she had expected. Like a lot of the Fire Nation, he’d struck her as a little conservative, so she’d anticipated a tea-length monstrosity better suited to some grandmother’s summer picnic than a place like Spirits. But there was no other word for it. The dress he’d found for her was... sexy. First off, it was very short. As she wiggled into it, the lightly fringed hem just brushed the middle of her thighs. The deep gold fabric had a kind of shine to it, looking almost metallic in the dim light. A high halter top fastened behind her neck, leaving her shoulders and back completely bare. Yet for all that, the dress was somehow elegant rather than trashy. The high neck seemed to balance out the length, and though it was tight across her hips, it was a little looser in the middle, so the dress didn’t have that desperate, painted-on look that Asami had seen all too often at Republic City nightclubs. For a man who only owned workout clothes and uniforms, Iroh had surprisingly good taste.</p><p>Asami cracked the door, then walked out into the area between the dressing rooms. Iroh was already there, studying himself carefully in the full length mirror. As she watched he ran one hand through his bangs, pushing them up and off his face. It almost looked like he was trying to spike his hair like Mako. Iroh’s hair just fell back into his forehead though. Asami giggled. </p><p>“That bad?” Iroh asked, turning away from the mirror. Asami’s giggle caught in her throat. He looked… wow. The black shirt was pulled tight across his arms and chest, just enough to accentuate his muscles without seeming not to fit. He’d left it open at the throat so that the second button strained ever so slightly between his pecs. The slim cut of the trousers highlighted his strong runner’s thighs and what, now that it wasn’t lost in his uniform, turned out to be a very nice ass. The slight curve in the flat front of his pants left just enough to the imagination while making sure that you were, in fact, imagining it. Iroh reached up to push his hair back again and gave her a shy smile. He didn’t just look good. He looked gorgeous.</p><p>“No, Iroh,” Asami said, shaking her head. “Opposite of bad. I think we have a winner.” </p><p>But Iroh didn’t seem to be listening anymore. He was staring at her, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “You look nice,” he said quietly.</p><p>Asami laughed. “I guess we clean up okay?”</p><p>Iroh nodded dumbly. “I didn’t think to get you shoes though.” She looked down and saw that he was in his socks. “Sorry,” he said, noticing her gaze. “I have big feet. I like the concept though. If they have the same ones in small boat size I’ll get them. We can find something for you, too.”</p><p>As Asami went back to change, she caught Iroh in front of the mirror again. He pushed up his bangs, sighed, then let them fall back with a flop.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“You really didn’t have to get me a present,” Iroh said. He had his hands pressed firmly over his eyes. “Honestly, the tour was enough.”</p><p>“Too bad,” said Asami. She put the mecha on the coffee table with a clink. With everything else that had happened today she had almost forgotten. “Besides, I made it yesterday.”</p><p>“Wait, you <em> made </em> it?”</p><p>“Of course I did. Okay, open.” </p><p>Iroh took his hands away from his eyes. He looked down, then his dark brows knit together in concentration. He picked the little machine up and slowly turned it over in both hands, then shook it gently. Finally his eyes met hers, confused. “What is it? I’m sorry, I’m not great with mecha.”</p><p>Asami grinned. “It’s your pet.”</p><p>“My... pet?” Iroh frowned down at the toaster-sized metal object in his hands. “Asami, it looks like a tiny four-legged mecha tank.”</p><p>“That’s what it’s based on,” she said. Asami walked around and sat carefully next to him on the couch, trying not to wrinkle her dress, then took the tubby robot from him. “But with a face. See?” She pointed out where she’d welded two large nuts to the front in approximation of eyes just above where she’d installed the speaker. “And it’s fully automated, obviously, because there’s no driver. So you won’t have to feed it or anything, and you can just turn it off when you’re gone.” Asami flipped it over, then flicked the toggle on its belly. Its legs immediately began to move back and forth with a little mechanical whine.</p><p>“What—” Iroh started.</p><p>“Just wait.” She turned the little machine back over and placed it on the ground at Iroh’s feet. It took a wobbly step forwards, then two. Then it stopped. The small metal tail spun around in a lazy circle. </p><p>“Yip!” crackled the voice recorder embedded in its face. There was a chittering noise, followed by a series of chirps. She’d had Bolin help her record some of Pabu’s sounds after the hearing yesterday. Then there was another crackle and Asami’s voice said, “Hooooorrriiiiii.” </p><p>Iroh blinked at it. All at once he burst out laughing; not his usual quiet chuckle, but big belly laughs, like the tiny mecha pet was the funniest thing he’d ever seen in his life. Suddenly he threw his arms around her and pulled her into a sideways hug. Then to her shock he planted a warm kiss on her cheek. She could smell whatever he’d put in his hair and the faintest whiff of cologne. Asami felt herself blush. </p><p>“You are <em> brilliant,” </em> Iroh said, releasing her. He reached down and patted the mecha with a broad smile. “Isn’t she, Hori?”</p><p>He hopped to his feet, then held out his hand. “Shall we paint the town red, then?”</p><p>Asami grabbed his hand and let him pull her up. “Let’s.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“Brandy and soda with a couple of cherries.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Iroh looked at her. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”</p><p>“I mean, you’re never going to get laid with a drink that looks and probably tastes like a little girl’s soda pop.” His cheeks went a little pink. Asami thought a second, then turned to the bartender. “Black manhattan.” She glanced at Iroh. “Throw in an extra cherry.” The bartender nodded, then turned to start making the drinks.</p><p>“What’s in that?” Iroh asked. </p><p>“Sex appeal, Iroh. That’s what’s in it. And cherries. Because I like you.” </p><p>The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll take your word for it.” </p><p>“Which part?”</p><p>“Depends on how this thing tastes.”</p><p>Asami just laughed. They’d only been at Spirits for little more than an hour, first at a table for a light dinner and now finally at the bar, but it was becoming abundantly clear that Iroh was going to need a bit more help meeting people than she’d anticipated. He was easily the best looking man in the nightclub, it wasn’t even a contest, but that would only get him so far if he wouldn’t talk to anyone. The few women and one man who’d approached him had gotten little more than one-word answers until they’d simply walked away, despite Asami tactfully getting up and making herself scarce.</p><p>“All right,” she said. “Now, pretend I’m a girl.”</p><p>Iroh looked her up and down. “That isn’t too difficult.”</p><p>She swatted his arm. “I’m serious. You can’t just talk to me all night, it will defeat the purpose of my taking you out. Pretend I’m a girl you’re interested in. I walk over to the bar here. What do you do?”</p><p>“Um.” Iroh ran one hand through his hair. “Hi, Asami.”</p><p>Asami rolled her eyes. “No, Iroh. ‘Um, hi’ is not what you do.”</p><p>“It isn’t?”</p><p>“Okay, let’s try this again.” Asami thought for a moment. “Actually, you know what, you’re the girl.”</p><p>“I am?”</p><p>“Yes. And I’m you. Here.” She turned and walked a few feet away, then came back slowly towards Iroh. She took steady, confident steps, met his eyes, and smiled. She let her gaze flick down over his body, then back up to his face. Then she turned her attention to the bar. She leaned up against it, mimed ordering a drink, then turned to face him. “Hey,” Asami said. “Do you know what’s in a black manhattan? My friend ordered me one earlier and I can’t figure it out.”</p><p>“Cherries,” Iroh said. “And sex appeal.”</p><p>Asami laughed. “That sounds about right.” She held out a hand. “I’m Iroh.”</p><p>“And I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Iroh said, taking her hand and giving it a firm pump.</p><p>“But you see what I did there? Be confident. Smile. Pay attention to her, but not too much attention. Then ask her an innocent but unique question and introduce yourself.” She reached up and rearranged his hair, which had started to stick up a bit from running his hands through it all the time. “At no point use the word ‘um’, and for spirits’ sake leave your poor hair alone.” At least he hadn’t wound up trying to spike it. </p><p>Asami looked past him to where a group of girls had clustered around the bar. There were three of them, whispering together and throwing furtive glances at Iroh’s back. She pressed her lips together, for some reason annoyed. Iroh wasn’t just some piece of meat. He was kind and smart and brave and fun to be with. She had to get people to understand that so they could really appreciate him. </p><p>The bartender set their drinks down. “Enjoy,” he said, and moved down the bar towards where one of the young women had waved to him.</p><p>“What about them?” Asami asked suddenly. She nodded past Iroh and he turned. The three girls looked away and fell to giggling. Then the one in the middle, a short, beautifully curvy girl with a black bob and a sparkling red dress, seemed to meet his eye. She smiled slightly, her cherry lips a stark contrast to her lightly tanned skin. </p><p>Iroh looked back at Asami. “What about them?” he asked.</p><p>She huffed out a breath. “I’m going to take my martini and go for a walk. <em> You </em> are going to embrace the fact that you are in a club full of gorgeous girls on your birthday and go say hello. Got it?”</p><p>For some reason he frowned slightly, then sniffed his drink. “Do I have to?”</p><p>“You’ll be fine, Iroh,” Asami said. She picked up her own drink and took a sip. “Just pretend you’re talking to me.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami took as long as she could making her way around the nightclub. She sipped her drink slowly, determined not to have more than one if she could help it. If her plan was successful, she’d have no Iroh to take care of her later if she had too much. Although if she was honest, she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to happen. For someone, or multiple someones, to flatter and fawn over him until he realized how great he was, and that he could have anybody he wanted? Sure. Maybe to give him a birthday kiss, too? He said he hadn’t been home in four months, but had only ended his relationship last week, so presumably it had been a while. To perhaps leave with his strong arm wrapped around them, walk the four blocks to the Grand Republic, and go upstairs? Iroh was an adult, and unattached. It was his room, his birthday, and his last night in town. It might not be love, but if it made him happy…</p><p>Asami almost bumped into a man standing by the second bar, the one to the right of the band. It was a lot louder here, and between the noise and her own thoughts she hadn’t been paying attention.</p><p>“Oh, excuse me,” she said, quickly snatching her drink away so it wouldn’t slosh on his arm.</p><p>“No problem, princess.” The man looked at her, then cocked his head slightly. “Hey, don’t I know you?”</p><p>Asami studied him. He was about average height and passingly handsome, with warm ivory skin, short brown hair, and deep green eyes. In a lot of ways he looked like an older Bolin. He also seemed vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t place him. “Maybe,” she said, just to hedge her bets. She’d never been great with faces. </p><p>He looked her up and down and smiled. “Wanna dance?”</p><p>“I, um, need to go check on my friend.”</p><p>The man frowned slightly and turned back to his drink. “Suit yourself.”</p><p>Asami made her way back around the other side of the room. She wasn’t sure why she hadn’t wanted to dance with the man. He was good-looking, she was available, and they were in a dance club. It was perfectly natural. Besides, if she didn’t dance, what was she going to do all night? She couldn’t just walk in circles forever. </p><p>She spotted Iroh a moment later. He’d retreated to one of the low tables with the short-haired girl in the red dress from earlier. They were sitting very close. As Asami watched Iroh said something to her. The girl threw her head back and laughed, placing one perfectly manicured hand on his arm. When she stopped laughing, her hand dropped to his knee. Iroh let it stay there.</p><p>Asami’s stomach did a faint flop. She tried to tell herself she was happy for him. After all, isn’t this what she’d wanted? Someone who found Iroh funny, who found him attractive, and who would spend the evening making him feel special? Operation Wingwoman: success. But instead the sight of him and the woman in the red dress only made her feel slightly sick. </p><p>Asami abruptly spun, then walked back to the second bar. She tapped the brown-haired man on the shoulder and he looked up, his eyes curious.</p><p>“Hey,” she said. She placed her empty glass on the bar. “Still up for that dance?” </p><p>The man drained the rest of his own drink, then set it down hard. “Anything for you, princess.” He took her hand and they headed out to the dance floor.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was only after he introduced himself that Asami remembered him. Lt. Guanting. The same man she’d left with almost a week ago. But it seemed he’d remembered her.</p><p>“I was so confused,” he said. “I stepped out for a cigarette and when I came back, poof, you were gone. I thought I’d imagined you, beautiful girl like yourself disappearing like that.” </p><p>Asami didn’t answer. For some reason, the flattery didn’t ring true. She remembered Iroh calling her the most beautiful woman in the room when they’d danced. At least he’d sounded like he meant it.</p><p>“So, you here by yourself? It’s a shame seeing a pretty girl all alone.”</p><p>“No, I came with a friend,” Asami said. “But he’s busy.”</p><p>“Too busy for you, princess? He sounds like a loser.”</p><p>Asami groaned. Seriously? <em> This </em> was the guy she’d left with last time? No wonder someone polished and refined like Iroh had said he didn’t approve. She immediately resolved to do better. She might not have Iroh, or even Mako, but she’d be damned if in her new life she couldn’t do better than this idiot.</p><p>She didn’t even really want to be dancing with him. It was just something to do while she waited to see how Iroh’s night went. And if the lieutenant happened to be someone Iroh didn’t like very much, well, what of it? She wasn’t his date and didn’t need his approval. </p><p>Suddenly Guanting leaned in, his pale face looming. He made as if to kiss her. Asami turned her head at the last second and made it into an awkward hug. What had given him the idea that <em> that </em>was where this was going? </p><p>“Excuse me,” she said quickly. “I need to use the ladies’. I’ll be back in a minute.”</p><p>Guanting gave her waist a squeeze. “Don’t keep me waiting, princess.” </p><p>Asami nodded and pulled away. She turned and pushed through the crowd, heading for the back hallway that led to the restrooms. Dancing was one thing, but she didn’t want to kiss Lt. Guanting, and didn’t think she’d given him any indication that she did. Asami thought again about what Iroh had said. Maybe he was right, and she was best avoiding the man. When she got back she’d check in on Iroh and, if he was still busy with the red dress girl, head back to the hotel. It was only a few blocks. Maybe she’d even book her own room tonight, just in case he decided to come back with company. It would give him some privacy, and there was no reason she couldn’t come get her things in the morning.</p><p>Asami finished up in the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. She dabbed it dry with a clean towel, careful not to ruin her makeup, not that it mattered much if she was leaving anyway. Then she braced her hands on the sink and simply stared. Tired green eyes. Pale face a little too thin. Black hair starting to come loose from its ribbon in wayward curls. Was this really the new her? Because she looked a lot like the old Asami, and nothing at all like a short, tan, voluptuous girl with a stylish bob and a sparkling red dress. Lie #1 might be “You Cannot Change,” but nothing Asami did would make her into that. </p><p>She sighed and pushed open the door. Lt. Guanting stood in the hallway. </p><p>“Not running out on me again, are you, princess?” he said. His voice was hard now, his friendly smile replaced with something predatory. Suddenly he looked nothing like Bolin. </p><p>“What are you doing here?” Asami asked, trying to keep her voice calm. “I just went to the bathroom is all.”</p><p>“Good. So how ‘bout we blow this joint? I know this nice, quiet bar up the street. It’ll be just like old times.”</p><p>“I don’t think so. Like I said, I came with a friend, and I really should go check on him.”</p><p>“I don’t think you did, princess,” Guanting said. “I think you made that up. Lucky you, I’ll be your friend tonight.” All of a sudden he lunged at her. Asami dodged, his fingers just brushing her arm, then pelted through a side door. It swung open with a clang and she stumbled out into an alley. </p><p>She immediately pressed herself back against the wall. Guanting hurtled out a half second later. Asami kicked out as hard as she could and hit him in the ass with one heeled shoe. The lieutenant yelped and stumbled, then wheeled around. His face was livid. </p><p>“Bitch,” he breathed.</p><p><em> Just like sparring, </em> Asami thought. <em> Just like sparring, be fast and knock him down. </em> Guanting stalked towards her, and she let him, waiting for him to try and grab her again. He did. The only thing more predictable than firebenders were guys like these. Instead of dodging Asami caught his hand in both of hers, then yanked him forwards as she stepped aside. The lieutenant hurtled into the wall, hitting his head with a sickening crack. As he bounced off, she aimed a kick at the side of his knee. Guanting howled as her shoe connected with the fragile joint, and he fell. Asami took one big step, then dropped from more or less her full height. She drove her left knee straight into his neck and pressed with all her strength. This wasn’t like pinning Iroh on the bending deck. This was for keeps.</p><p>“Now who’s the bitch, you fucking <em> fuck,” </em> Asami shouted. Guanting made a choking noise and tried to shove her off, but she’d braced herself against the concrete and didn’t budge. He pounded his fists into the ground and wiggled, but she held him fast. Ten years of self-defense classes, asshole.</p><p>“Asami!” someone shouted. She looked up to see Iroh charge out of the door. Both his fists were on fire. He was on her in two big steps, grabbing her shoulders as his fire went out and hauling her up. He crushed her into a hug. “Spirits, okay,” he muttered. “Thank goodness.” Then his eyes fell on the sputtering Guanting.</p><p>For a moment, Iroh went completely still. Then he slowly released her. “Are you all right?” he asked softly. His eyes never left the man on the ground.</p><p>“You should see the other guy,” Asami giggled. She felt drunk all over again, flushed with adrenaline from head to toe. </p><p>Iroh moved, lightning quick. He reached down and grabbed the lieutenant by the neck, then hauled him up and slammed him against the wall as if he weighed no more than a sack of trash. Guanting wasn’t exactly a small man either; Asami couldn’t imagine the kind of strength it took to lift him with one hand like that. Strength, or fury.</p><p>“I should kill you,” Iroh growled. “Give me one goddamned reason why I shouldn’t.”</p><p>Guanting only gurgled. His face was turning an alarming shade of red. Blood poured freely from a long cut on his forehead where Asami had slammed him into the wall. His green eyes rolled wildly as he struggled, but Iroh’s grip was like iron.</p><p>“Iroh!” Asami shouted, suddenly realizing that he meant it. Even with noble intentions, he could go to prison if he actually killed the man. “Iroh, put him down, he’s not worth it.” </p><p>Iroh gave the lieutenant a final shove into the wall, then released him. Guanting collapsed onto his side, gasping, the leg she’d kicked sticking out at a slightly awkward angle. </p><p>“Tried to kill me,” he panted. “General, she tried to—”</p><p>“I’m done hearing stories about you, Lieutenant,” Iroh said. His voice was like ice. “You might get away with intimidating and threatening your subordinates, but I have no doubt that Miss Sato will testify that she acted in self defense, and why. She has more courage in her little finger than you have in your whole worthless body. If you’re very lucky, you’ll be discharged, and officially no longer my problem. Unofficially, if I ever hear that you hurt a woman again, I will blow a hole through your throat the size of a kumquat and damn the consequences. Do you understand?”</p><p>For a moment, Guanting said nothing, his mouth twisted with pain. Then he nodded. </p><p>“Good. In the meantime, tomorrow I’m having you transferred. There’s an unaccompanied position on Roku Island that I find is suddenly available. I hope you like koala sheep.” Iroh looked at Asami and his face softened. “I’m going to escort Miss Sato home now. I don’t have time for you. Report to your commander at 08:00 tomorrow to receive your new assignment. Crawl if you have to. I hope that I don’t have to remind you that we still hang deserters.” Then he held out his hand to Asami. “May I?” </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>He held her hand the entire way back to the hotel. Asami had assured him that she wasn’t at all hurt, and that in fact she’d done all of the beating herself, but Iroh walked like a coiled spring. It was only after he’d shut the penthouse door behind them that he seemed to relax. He took a deep breath, clicked the lock, then walked over to sit on the bed in the alcove near the door. It was the one where Asami had slept that first night, but it hadn’t been used since except as a place to throw bags. Iroh leaned down and took off his new shoes. </p><p>Asami slipped out of her own shoes and went to sit beside him. Then she pulled the two cherry sodas they’d gotten at the gift shop from out of the bag. She unscrewed one top and handed it to Iroh, then did her own. It was ice cold and delicious.</p><p>“Thanks,” he said. It was the first thing he’d said in several minutes. “Good idea. I didn’t know I needed that.”</p><p>She huffed out a laugh. “It’s the least I could do.”</p><p>“You’ve done more than enough,” Iroh said. He shook his head slightly. “You can’t imagine how relieved I was that you dropped him. I didn’t want to say too much before because I didn’t want to scare you, but I see now that I should have. There have always been rumors about Guanting, about things that he’s done, that he does to women. I couldn't dismiss him, not without proof, but I do my best to make sure he is never alone with anyone.”</p><p>“Is that why you came after me?”</p><p>“Yes. I saw you dancing with him. I didn’t like it, but as long as I could keep an eye on you it was all right. When you went to the bathroom and a few minutes later he followed you, I started running.” Iroh rubbed at his face. “It’s times like this that I think of ‘Shadow and Flame.’ How sometimes the bad guys really do get away. I’ve known about Guanting for years, everyone has, but I haven’t been able to prove it. Even when I became the fucking general I couldn’t do anything. I tried. Anyone who comes forward quickly recants. His father is the Earth Queen’s ambassador in Caldera and has a lot of influence, perhaps he persuades the women to drop it, I don’t know. Spirits, I hope it sticks this time.”</p><p>Asami smiled. “If the Equalists have taught me anything, it’s that I’m not very persuadable. And I think I dislocated his knee. Maybe that will teach him manners.”</p><p>Iroh actually laughed. “I believe it. No one is ever going to threaten you into doing something you don’t want to do. It’s one of the things I admire about you.”</p><p>Asami felt a tiny flutter in her stomach. Admire?</p><p>“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said. “If we have time for a workout in the morning I want you to show me that whole ‘hoist them up by their neck’ move.”</p><p>Iroh reached back and rubbed at his right shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be regretting that one tomorrow.” He met her eyes. “I won’t let that stop me though. I’ll show you no matter what. It’s not like we… since it’s either tomorrow or bust. And like you said, it probably won’t take that long to pack.”</p><p>“Yeah. Think we can squeeze in breakfast, too?” </p><p>Iroh grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it.” Then his smile faded. It was a hard thing to watch, that creeping sadness. </p><p>Asami sighed. “I’m sorry that I ruined your birthday, Iroh. And your last night in town, too.”</p><p>His eyes widened in surprise. “Not at all! This is one of the best birthdays I’ve had in years. I got to ride the train and found Tienhai’s palace and had real ash banana on my hamburger.” He chuckled a little. “I even got a new pet and a fashion consult. Honest, it’s been wonderful.”</p><p>“I meant the part at Spirits.”</p><p>“That, too. Up until the last bit, I was having a very good time.”</p><p>“With the girl in the red dress?” Asami said before she could stop herself. Of course that was what he meant. Of course it was.</p><p>“No,” Iroh said, his voice suddenly quiet. He reached his hand up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I meant before the girl in the red dress. To be honest, she’s not really my type.”</p><p>“What’s your type, Iroh?” Asami’s heart pounded. His face was only inches from hers now. </p><p>For a long moment Iroh said nothing. Then he shook his head slightly. “Fuck it,” he muttered, and kissed her. It was a soft kiss, barely anything, just a light brush of lips that was almost a question. When he pulled away, his face was tense. He closed his eyes and breathed out. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—”</p><p>Asami leaned forwards and kissed him on the mouth, just as softly. Iroh’s gold eyes flew wide, then he melted into her. He tasted like cherries. </p><p>Their lips parted with a faint pop.</p><p>“Happy birthday,” Asami whispered. </p><p>Iroh looked slightly stunned. “Technically,” he said. He brushed his hand over her ear again, then she felt his fingers tangle in her hair. He pulled her forward and now his kiss was a little more firm, more confident. Asami pressed back, not letting him retreat this time, catching his top lip between her own as he started to pull away. She let her tongue flick out, the faint salt of his skin mingling with the sweetness of the soda and a taste that was all his own. Iroh murmured something that might have been her name, or might have only been a sigh. Then he was kissing her again, kissing her in earnest, and the world narrowed to little more than the feel of his warm mouth against her. </p><p>They stayed like that for a while, testing, exploring, opening to one another. Eventually Asami let her hand trail up his chest. The fabric of Iroh’s new shirt was stiff beneath her fingers, but she could feel the heat of him even through it. He ran his own warm hand over the bare skin of her back and she shivered. Then she pressed into him, unable to hold back, and suddenly they were all open mouths and warm tongues and sweat and cherries, practically devouring each other, falling back down into the red and gold brocade. The hand on her back tightened and Iroh rolled her on top of him, and then it was like they were dancing again, her leading and him following, his broad hands in all the right places as they swayed. </p><p>Asami sat back on his hips and felt the coiled tension beneath her. Iroh ran both hands up her thighs, pushing the hem of the gold dress to her waist as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally pulling it open. She felt his stomach tighten under her, the flat, hard muscles almost shy at her touch. His bare skin felt hot beneath her palms, not just warm but actually <em> hot, </em> like he’d somehow been too long in the sun. Asami slid her hands up to his shoulders and Iroh rose up to meet her, letting her push the offending fabric back down his arms. Suddenly he sucked in a breath.</p><p>She pulled away. “Iroh?”</p><p>“Burn,” he breathed. “It’s fine, just a little sore.” </p><p>Asami reached out and traced the teacup sized scar on his bicep. It had only been a few weeks. “I’ll be gentle,” she said. She leaned down to kiss him again.</p><p>“Wait.” His gold eyes bored into her. “Asami. Are you sure?”</p><p>“You’re still leaving tomorrow?”</p><p>A flicker of pain on his face. “Yes.”</p><p>“Then yes. I want you to have something to remember me by.”</p><p>“I’m not going to forget you.” His voice was hard. “Not ever.”</p><p>Asami thought about her book. “Then this is for me.”</p><p>Iroh nodded slightly, then reached up behind her neck and undid the buttons on the halter. He pulled her down as the top of the dress fell away. </p><p>They went slow. It was so different than anything she’d ever done with Mako, or with anyone else. There was no stumbling, no desperation, no blind groping in the half-remembered darkness. There was only Iroh, solid and warm and gentle, making her welcome, making her naked, pressing her down with his mouth and his body into the scratchy red comforter. </p><p>“Iroh,” she breathed as he rocked on top of her. It was all she could manage. “Iroh.”</p><p>He tumbled onto the pillow next to her a few minutes later, breathing hard. Iroh grinned, then leaned forwards and planted a kiss on the end of her nose. It was such a silly gesture that Asami actually laughed. He reached over and pulled her close. She let him, scooting over so that she was curled up against his chest. She felt him rest his chin gently against the top of her head.</p><p>They lay there for a while, just comfortable, Asami listening to the quiet thud of Iroh’s heartbeat, the slow swell of his breathing. She slowly traced a long scar that ran up his side, a memory of some other battle, some other country, some other lifetime. Because that’s what happened in the United Forces. You came, you conquered, and you left. You left.</p><p>“Iroh, what is this?” she whispered. </p><p>“I don’t know.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Saturday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone's a realist. Asami watches a ship.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asami had worried that it would be awkward after, but it wasn’t. At some point they’d each simply gotten up, washed up and brushed their teeth in their separate bathrooms, then snuggled back into the large bed in the alcove. Neither of them bothered to dress, or seemed to feel the need to talk about it. It simply was. Asami spent the rest of the night in dreamless sleep, Iroh’s chest pressed firmly against her back, one heavy arm wrapped comfortably around her.</p><p>In the morning he woke her with a kiss, just the one. It was still early. </p><p>“I have to make a few calls,” he said, “but it shouldn’t take long.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Still up for that workout?”</p><p>Asami made some sort of sleepy noise she hoped could vaguely be construed as consent. </p><p>Iroh laughed a little. “Good enough,” he said. “Give me 10 minutes.”</p><p>In the end it was more like 20. Iroh dressed in his workout clothes, then sat down at the second desk and called what Asami guessed was Lt. Guanting’s commanding officer. He explained the transfer, without giving the reason, and that the commander should expect Guanting by 8am and to call if he didn’t show. Next he phoned what sounded like someone in the United Forces police or justice branch. He explained the encounter with Guanting in detail, both what she’d said had happened before and what he’d actually witnessed himself, and that Asami could be counted on to testify. Then he frowned. </p><p>“I, um, I’m not entirely sure,” he said. “I promise that I’ll find out and let you know. Yes, today if I can. Thank you.” Then he hung up.</p><p>By this point Asami was awake enough that she could guess what they’d been talking about. How to reach her. She still hadn’t made a decision on where she was going to live next, and in last night’s excitement had forgotten about it entirely. Even worse, she was no closer to an answer. She could go home without Iroh, stay here without Iroh, or go somewhere else without Iroh. None of those were what she wanted, but they were the totality of her stupid choices all the same.</p><p>Iroh seemed to know not to ask her right away though. He must have assumed she’d gotten the message. Instead, he gave Asami a two minute warning and started lacing up his tennis shoes.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>A streak of yellow fire whipped past her temple. Asami jagged left, then ducked down in anticipation of the next blast. A split second later it whizzed over her head. Two more quick steps and she was on him. She came in low, then drove her fist up like a piston. At the last moment Asami opened her hand, palm out, and pushed with her legs. Iroh caught her wrist just before it connected with his throat. </p><p>“Good,” he said. He was still breathing hard. This was their fifth run on the completed move, and though they were both going slow Iroh was doing double duty as both instructor and partner. She could feel the heat radiating off him in waves, as if the fire he bent was still thrumming just under the surface of his skin. “Exactly like that. I don’t think you’ll be able to pick someone up, you just don’t weigh enough, but if you had a wall behind them you might be able to pin them for a second or two. Either way, you’ll hurt them.”</p><p>Asami stood and Iroh released her. “Why didn’t I ever learn that in self-defense? I took every class. I even had private lessons. They never showed us that.”</p><p>“They don’t teach that in self defense,” Iroh said. He pushed his dark hair off his forehead where he was already starting to sweat. Asami resisted the urge to run her fingers through it. “First, people protect their throats instinctively. There are a few places like that, the eyes being another, where our reaction to cover them is almost unconscious. So it’s very hard to land a hit there in a fight. Notice with Guanting I only went for his neck after he was down and half strangled already. It isn’t a good move for an amateur.” </p><p>“Okay,” said Asami. “What else? You said first.”</p><p>Iroh grimaced. “Second, the bones of the throat are delicate. So is the windpipe. If you do hit hard there, especially with the side of your hand like I showed you, you’re very likely to kill your opponent. As far as I know it’s only standard training in the military.” </p><p>Asami looked down at her hand, then back up at him. “Then why did you show me?”</p><p>“Because you asked,” Iroh said. His face was suddenly hard. “And because if there’s ever a point where you feel like you have to use it, I want you to kill him.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Iroh poured the tea. It was all that he’d ordered. Neither of them were hungry, even after an hour of steady exercise. He set the pot on the table with a soft clink, then stared down into his cup. He didn’t drink it.</p><p>“I suppose we should talk,” he said.</p><p>Asami looked down at her own drink. The tea he’d picked today was of the palest yellow and smelled faintly of flowers. She didn’t want any of it. “Are you really going to make me say it?” she asked.</p><p>Iroh reached across the table and took her hand. “No. I will.” Asami looked up and met his eyes. His face had gone pale and rigid. “I’m leaving,” he said. “My business in Republic City is done, and I’m needed elsewhere. Assuming there’s no more trouble, the fleet may not be in the United Republic for a year, maybe more. I might be back myself before then, depending on when the trials begin, but it will be several months at least. And it won’t be for long. Two, three days at most.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Your life is here. The new as well as the old. Mine is not. I have… obligations, not just in the Forces, and I—”</p><p>She squeezed his hand. “Iroh. You don’t need to explain.”</p><p>He shook his head. “I know, but I want to. I want you to know that, if I were free… This week has been one of the best weeks of my life. I know it sounds silly, but it’s true. But now it’s over. I’m not going to ask you to wait for me. I’d never do that.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t ask it of you, either,” Asami said quietly. “It isn’t fair.”</p><p>Iroh moved his thumb in a slow circle over the back of her hand. The gesture was oddly intimate. It made her want to scream. “You deserve everything, Asami. And that includes someone who will be there for you. Be <em> here </em> for you. That someone... isn’t me. I don’t have that kind of life, that kind of freedom.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Asami said. Her voice sounded far away. “Everyone I’ve ever loved has left me, Iroh. My mother. My father. My school friends. Mako. I can’t have you always leaving me, too. I couldn’t stand it. It’s nearly impossible as it is.”</p><p>“Don’t be sorry. You need to live your life. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”</p><p>“I’m not. I’m only sorry that things couldn’t be different.”</p><p>Iroh covered her hand in his. “I’m grateful for what we had.” He looked down at his cooling tea, then at hers. His shoulders slumped. “Perhaps it’s time to pack.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t take long to gather up her things. Even though Asami had more clothing in the penthouse than Iroh at this point, she’d mostly organized it in the dresser. Packing it all up in the cheap suitcase she’d bought at the gift shop after breakfast, plus her shower and morning routine, was the work of less than 45 minutes. </p><p>Iroh was just as efficient. He was seated on his couch when she left her room dragging the suitcase, dressed once again in his United Forces uniform. All of his own things had fit in a single dark gray duffel bag with the exception of Hori, which sat next to him on the couch. Asami draped her ball gown, the only thing that hadn’t fit in her own bag, over the back of one of the table chairs. Then she went and sat down next to Iroh.</p><p>He looked at his watch. “Checkout is in half an hour.”</p><p>Asami glanced around the empty penthouse, then met his eyes. “What do you want to do now?”</p><p>He raised his eyebrows a little. “Sit with me?”</p><p>Asami nodded and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close before reclining into the cushions. She leaned her head on his shoulder. The fabric of his uniform scratched a little against her ear.</p><p>Long minutes passed, neither of them speaking. There wasn’t much left to say. Finally Iroh said, “It’s time.” Asami started to get up, but he put a quick hand on her thigh. “Wait. One more thing.”</p><p>Iroh dug in his pocket and pulled out a pendant. It was a small golden disc no bigger than a coin and almost the exact color of his eyes. It hung from the end of a thick crimson ribbon trimmed with white. The side she could see was embossed with the image of two twisting garlands on top of the characters, 勇氣. Asami recognized it immediately. It was one of the medals he’d had pinned to his jacket at the gala. </p><p>Iroh held it out to her. “Extraordinary bravery,” he said. “I like you to have it. It suits you. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”</p><p>“Iroh, I can’t take that!” Asami gasped. It was one of the United Forces’ highest honors.</p><p>“No. I want you to have it,” he said. He held it out a little further in offer. “If… if you want. I thought that maybe, once in a while, it might make you think of me.” Iroh smiled a little. “You know, in your new life. Not often, mind you. I don’t want that. But… perhaps every once in a while. So you don’t get to thinking everything from the past was bad. There’s always a silver lining, Asami. Always.”</p><p>Asami closed her fingers around the medal, still warm from his pocket. She couldn’t speak, so she only nodded. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>In the end, Asami decided to extend her stay at the Grand Republic. It was the option which required the least amount of effort. She moved her suitcase and her ball gown to a small suite two floors below the penthouse—she didn’t need that much space, and the apartment now also had too many memories—then went downstairs to meet Iroh. She found him standing on the curb just outside the big brass doors, his gray duffel bag leaning against one leg.</p><p>“All checked out?” Asami said as she walked up to him.</p><p>Iroh nodded through his clenched teeth.</p><p>“How are you getting back to the ship?”</p><p>“Taxi. They’ve already called at the desk.”</p><p>“I’m sorry that we couldn’t take the X-11.”</p><p>“That’s okay,” said Iroh. He gave her the barest smile. “I’d have been too tempted to try and drive it again.”</p><p>Asami raised an eyebrow. “I am <em> not </em> putting you on the roads in an X-11 at 11am on a Saturday. I don’t think you appreciate how much those things cost. Not to mention building repairs.”</p><p>“Hey!” Iroh chuckled and swatted her arm. “I thought I was getting pretty good.”</p><p>“Maybe next time I see you I can give you another lesson?”</p><p>“Maybe.” They both knew it wouldn’t happen.</p><p>A brown and red satomobile pulled up to the curb. The driver tipped Iroh a salute. Apparently a cab down to the fleet on the United Forces’ tab made the fare rather obvious. </p><p>“This is me,” Iroh said. </p><p>“When does the ship leave?”</p><p>He glanced at his watch. “A couple of hours. Enough time to settle in but not much more than that.” His gold eyes locked onto hers. “I stayed as long as I could,” he whispered. Then he leaned down and kissed her, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. It was a real kiss, too, warm and deep. There’d be no mistaking it for a chaste goodbye between friends. Iroh didn’t seem to care that they were in front of everyone, or that if someone snapped a picture it could be all over tomorrow’s <em> Press. </em> And suddenly, neither did she. If this was all she had, all they had left, everyone else in the world could go to hell.</p><p>The taxi driver gave them a little honk. Asami jerked her head around, prepared to tell him off, but he was smiling. He must not know. Of course he wouldn’t. To everyone watching, Iroh was just another UF grunt getting a kiss from his lady. Perhaps they’d see each other in a week or two, a month at the most. She’d meet him down at the docks, searching the face above each scarlet jacket for the right one, the one that was hers, the one to run at and throw her arms around and… and… </p><p>“Hey,” Iroh said, turning her face back to his. His lips kissed away the salt, first under one eye, then the other. Asami could feel his warm breath on her cheek. “Hey, don’t do that. Not for me.”</p><p>She wiped at her eyes and tried to smile. “I’m all right. You should go.”</p><p>Iroh cupped her face in one hand. His thumb gently brushed the last tear from her cheek. “Goodbye, Asami,” he said.</p><p>“Goodbye, Iroh.”</p><p>He stooped and picked up his bag, tucked Hori under one arm, then got in the taxi. He waved once as they pulled away. That was all.</p><p>Asami’s vision blurred. Abruptly she turned, then stumbled blindly towards the hotel’s front doors. </p><p>“Whoa!” She felt a firm hand on her sternum and looked up to see none other than Lin Beifong. She was dressed in her dark gray uniform as usual, her face impassive. The chief of police was no more than two feet away, one arm locked out as if she’d only just stopped Asami from running straight into her. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Asami mumbled. She blinked rapidly, trying to pull herself together enough to at least be polite. “I didn’t see you.” </p><p>“That was fairly obvious,” said Chief Beifong. Her green eyes narrowed slightly. “It seemed you and Iroh were occupied.”</p><p>As little as a day ago Asami would have been mortified at the idea that someone like Chief Beifong even suspected her and Iroh of kissing, let alone had been watching them do it in broad daylight. Now all she did was stare. What did it matter?</p><p>“You okay, kid?” the chief asked. </p><p>“No,” Asami answered. She was done with lies. </p><p>The older woman’s eyes followed Iroh’s cab, then glanced at her watch. She pursed her lips and huffed a little. “Can I buy you a coffee?”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami took a sip of her tea. It was the same one Iroh had ordered a few hours earlier. </p><p>“So you and Iroh are…?” Chief Beifong left the label open.</p><p>“Friends,” said Asami. </p><p>“That didn’t look much like friends. It looked like he was eating you. I take it he’s leaving?” The chief raised an eyebrow and lifted her own drink, a coffee that had to have been half sugar by the time she was done adding to it. </p><p>Asami only nodded. She felt numb, hollowed out, as if Iroh had packed up and taken her heart along with everything else. Maybe he had.</p><p>“And you’re here.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“So, friends.” Asami nodded again and Chief Beifong made a hum of assent. “I see.” </p><p>“Thank you for the tea,” said Asami. She didn’t know the chief well, and was struggling for conversation. All she could think of was getting this over with as soon as possible so that she could go upstairs to her new room and take a nap. </p><p>“Don’t mention it. You’ve done a lot for the investigation. RCPD has appreciated your cooperation. Not everyone would have, in your situation.”</p><p>“Of course.” </p><p>Chief Beifong took another sip of her coffee. Her eyes met Asami’s. “You know we all go way back, right? Kya and Bumi and…” There was the slightest pause. “Tenzin and I. Roakon and Rana. My sister Suyin. And of course, Izumi.” </p><p>“Yes.” Asami hadn’t really thought about it, but it made perfect sense. The previous Avatar, Avatar Aang, had ended the 100-years war with the Fire Nation with the help of his friends when they were barely teenagers. Those friends, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Zuko, had stayed in touch throughout their lives, and Aang and Katara had even married, so of course their children had known one another. From what Iroh had said, they may have been even closer than that. He’d referred to Tenzin as practically an uncle, and called Chief Beifong “Lin” when he was angry and unthinking.</p><p>The chief nodded. “So then you’ll understand I’ve known Iroh since he was born. Izumi may seem like a pillar of fire, but you should have seen her with him. Trotting that fat cannonball of a baby around like he shit gold and screamed opera. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so annoying.” She laughed a little, a harsh bark. “I think that’s when I knew. Tenzin took one look at little Iroh and you could see it on his face. He wanted a whole pile of the things. Now I like Iroh, he was always polite as a child and he’s a damned fine adult now, but all I saw then was something loud and sticky that made me want to metalbend my legs together.”</p><p>Asami cocked her head slightly. Why was Chief Beifong telling her about Iroh as a baby, or about Iroh at all? Didn’t she know that the very last thing she wanted to be thinking about right now was him? </p><p>The chief clearly expected her to say something. She paused, took a long pull from her mug, and then sat there in silence. Finally she sighed, apparently giving up on Asami getting the point. </p><p>“What I’m trying to say is, it’s a hard thing to like someone, or even love them, and know that your lives are incompatible. It’s an even harder thing to act on it. So good for you. I hate to see a woman changing her life for a man. There’s entirely too much of that. You’re smart, Asami. You have resources. Future Industries is yours, or will be once we clear up the paperwork. Spirits, you’re not even 20 and you’ll own a Block 50 company outright. I think you’ll do things with it, too. You’re friends with the Avatar, and though it may not always feel like it you have the regard of a grateful city.” Chief Beifong reached across the table, somewhat awkwardly, and shook Asami’s shoulder. “Like I said, I like Iroh. I respect the hell out of him, too, when he’s not being an ass. But he’s only one person. Someone like you, you can have anything you want. Don’t forget that.”</p><p>“May I ask you something?” Asami said.</p><p>The chief leaned back, frowning slightly. “Shoot.”</p><p>“Was there ever anyone after?”</p><p>“After what?”</p><p>“After Tenzin?”</p><p>Chief Beifong looked at her watch. “Spirits, if I don’t get going I’m going to be late. Keep the tea. And hang in there, kid. You’ll be okay. I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami sat on the bed in her new room, <em> The Lies We Tell Ourselves </em> open on her lap. </p><p>Lie #2: You Know What You Want</p>
<ol>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
<li>Iroh</li>
</ol><p>Asami threw the book across the room as hard as she could. It hit the far wall with a thump, then tumbled to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>There were several other people at the rooftop bar of the Grand Republic, but none of them seemed interested in the view to the south. Asami couldn’t blame them. The mountains shone in the bright afternoon light, the high snows clearly visible against the brilliant blue sky. It was perfectly calm, and warm, yesterday’s autumn breeze only a memory. Yue Bay stretched off to the horizon like azure glass. A few white sailboats dotted the harbor. It was a wonderful day for sailing. At least there was that. By comparison, the south side of the city was short, drab, and relatively uninteresting. Asami had that side of the bar to herself.</p><p>She took a sip of her wine and watched the command ship, the only one of Iroh’s fleet yet fit to sail, pull out of the docks below the industrial district. At first it moved slowly, so slowly it might be hard to know it was moving at all unless you were watching it constantly. But once it gained the bay it picked up speed, veering off to the south and west on a course that would take it first to the Fire Nation, then to wherever it was needed. It was a truly enormous ship, larger even than most of the cargo ships, and beautiful besides. The twin golden dragons on its prow glittered proudly in the slanting sunlight. The flagship of the United Forces, once again on its way to keep the peace across the four nations. Yet its passing went largely unremarked. </p><p>Asami sat on her stool and watched it until it was no more than a dot on the horizon. Then it was gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Roakon and Rana are Sokka's kids, that I just made up, because dammit Sokka gets a future. </p><p>Also sorry if this made you cry as much as it did me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Sunday Morning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Asami still hates running. Career advice and a to-do list. An urgent phone call and an ordinary visitor.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asami stretched and hauled herself out of bed. The sky outside her small bedroom window was still the dusty blue of early morning, but it looked like it might be another nice day. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to scrub away the sleep, then pulled back her hair and put on her workout clothes. After almost a week of practice, it was starting to feel like routine. Asami only spared the single couch half a glance as she headed out the door. </p><p>Without anyone to spar with, she divided her workout into two parts: hitting hard and running away. She knew that she’d have to develop a more balanced routine, especially if she decided to keep training solo instead of taking classes like she used to, but for today it was what she needed. Asami wound up spending nearly 20 minutes on the punching bag, hitting it with all of her strength until her knuckles were raw and stinging. It hurt. It felt good that it hurt. She knew what to do with that kind of pain, physical pain, and it was nice to have something to focus on. </p><p>Then Asami started running. She kept her pace slow and steady, going for distance rather than speed as a way to ease into it. It wasn’t long before her lungs began to ache, but she kept it up all the same, taking the time to rest at busy intersections until the lights changed. She might never learn to love running the way Iroh did, but she liked to think he would have been proud of her all the same. Maybe one day she’d be faster than his grandma Mai after all.</p><p>She didn’t take any of the routes they’d been on before though, hoping to avoid anything that felt too familiar. Memory was such a funny thing that way. That something as innocuous as a park bench, as everyday as a set of stairs, could be somehow transformed into a place of meaning. A kiss on the hand. A laugh over dinner. A tasted cherry. An inadvertent brush of shoulder or thigh that in hindsight may not have been accidental at all. There was no reason for Asami to see those kinds of places if she didn’t have to. Not yet. Spirits, it had only been a day.</p><p>Instead she went north, jogging a few blocks up 6th before cutting over and following tree-lined Appa St. as it sloped gently down to the water. This route eventually went past the University of the Republic and Republic City College both, and wasn’t a place that Asami went often. None of her academy friends had gone past secondary; in her circles, men went into business or politics (or both) and women got married. In either case, there was no need for more schooling. So despite her excellent grades and obvious means, university had never been something Asami and her father had discussed. She knew more than most engineering graduates anyway from all her time on the factory floor, and he’d been clear there was a place for her at Future Industries. Hiroshi Sato was every inch the self-made man, and his only child would follow in his footsteps regardless of her gender or formal education. In a lot of ways, he really had believed in equality.</p><p>Asami paused at a stoplight, gasping, her legs on fire. The Republic City College campus stretching off to her right was nearly deserted. As she looked around, she realized she’d gone farther than she’d planned, a lot farther. Yet every time she’d almost turned back the thought of her empty room kept her going. She just needed a little longer, a few more minutes to get out of her head. Like her time at the punching bag, every minute Asami kept running was a minute it simply hurt too much to feel anything else.</p><p>She was about to turn back anyway when a squat red brick building across the street caught her eye. It was mostly covered by trees, but below the lowest branches she could clearly read the words “Career Center.” To the left of the words hung a small purple and gold United Republic flag.</p><p>Asami pursed her lips, then crossed the street. There was no harm in talking to someone, right? Her father was in prison. What he wanted was irrelevant now. Moreover, if what he had wanted was an anti-bending revolution, maybe the idea that he’d had her best interests at heart was more naive than she’d thought. </p><p>She was almost to the door when she read the rest of the sign. Asami stopped cold. Then she laughed. Of course it was.</p><p>A lone man sat behind a desk just inside the entryway. He was all in dark gray except for the dash of gold just above his heart. He looked up as she entered and flashed her a brief smile. Asami pegged him somewhere in his mid-30s, or perhaps a little older. He was very fair, with light brown eyes, chiseled features, and a dark, pointed beard. Perhaps Fire Nation, or at least mixed. He wasn’t a bender though. She could tell by the outfit. </p><p>“Well, hello,” he said. He had a deep voice; it reminded Asami a little of her father. The man looked her up and down and his smile broadened. “I see you’ve already gotten a start on the runs. What can I do for you? And please, have a seat.”</p><p>Asami sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. Up close, the man was quite large. Not fat, just big, like maybe he wrestled or chopped down trees in his spare time. Standing he’d be as tall as Iroh, or almost, but was maybe half again as wide. Sheesh. She hoped that wasn’t what was expected of the non-benders.</p><p>“I’m exploring my options,” Asami said. “I honestly don’t know much about the program, how one gets started, or even what you’re looking for. I’m not signing up today, but I’m looking for a change and thought I’d at least ask.”</p><p>“Of course,” said the big man with a smile. Asami was starting to wonder if he practiced smiling all the time so he wouldn’t look threatening. “The first step is to ask you a couple of questions. Some will determine if you’re even eligible, others will help me figure out where you could fit. It’s a big place.”</p><p>“Seems reasonable.”</p><p>“All right. And I have to ask you not to lie. If you lie now and it’s found out later, the consequences are very serious. And we usually find out. I’m not asking for any documentation until you’re sure that you’re interested, but best to start out with the truth anyway.”</p><p>Asami smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve actually been practicing that.” </p><p>A puzzled expression flashed across his face. Then it was gone. “Okay,” he said. “First, your name, age, and country of residence. We accept qualified young people from all over, but 17 is the minimum age and that’s firm.”</p><p>“Asami Sato, 18, United Republic of Nations. I’ll be 19 end of November, if that matters.”</p><p>If he recognized her name, he didn’t show it. “All right, Miss Sato. Are you a bender?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Not a problem. Well and healthy? Any chronic conditions?”</p><p><em> Heartbreak, </em> Asami thought. She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”</p><p>“Formal education?”</p><p>“Secondary. Granite Point Academy. It’s a private school down south.”</p><p>The man looked up from where he’d been taking notes. “That’s pretty exclusive, no? Good student?”</p><p>Asami shrugged a little. “5** in math and hard science. 5* in everything else.” She scrunched up her nose a little bit. “Except the one semester I took theater. That was a bust.”</p><p>The man blinked a little. “That’s… wow. I don’t get a lot of folks with those kinds of scores.” He raised an eyebrow. “Any reason you aren’t talking to U of R down the road instead of me?”</p><p>“Who says I’m not?”</p><p>His smile returned. “Fair enough. Glad to know I’ve got worthy competition.” He looked down at his notes again. “Any other education, skills, or interests I should know about?” </p><p>“Mechanical engineering, mostly.” Asami said. “I’ve worked on the satomobile line at Future Industries and can probably build one from scratch by now. I’m particularly good with power generation and materials science—you know, making things lighter, zappier, more durable. But I’m decent all-around.” She thought for a moment. “I made my friend a mecha fire ferret the other day, mostly out of scrap.”</p><p>The man looked up again. “A… mechanical ferret?”</p><p>“Yeah. He travels a lot but wanted a pet. I only had a few hours, but it turned out pretty well, at least functionally.” She didn’t add that the face was nothing more than two nuts and a speaker. Asami had done about as well in art as she had in theater. “Oh, I also did the estimate for the repairs to the fleet ships damaged in the Equalist attack. That was Wednesday.”</p><p>The big man narrowed his eyes. “I thought that was all handled by the United Forces?”</p><p>“Oh! I’m sorry, it was. I was only the second opinion.” </p><p>He looked skeptical. “By yourself?”</p><p>Asami nodded. “The ships more or less all have the same layout. Once I got a look at the schematics it wasn’t that hard to know where to check for holes. Big flying incendiaries and naval mines mean fire, water, and pressure, none of which are good for ships but that at least limits the types of damage. And I know what things cost. A satomobile isn’t a battleship, but at the end of the day it’s all low-carbon steel.”</p><p>The man scratched absently at his beard, then made a few more notes. Finally he looked up. “Well, Miss Sato,” he said. “I’m no engineer, but it sounds like you are, and in my estimation we’d be lucky to have you. Perhaps it’s time that I let you ask me a few questions yourself.”</p><p>Asami thought about it. She knew what she wanted to ask, but it somehow didn’t seem right to lead with that. So instead she asked the next most pressing question. “Well, where would I live?”</p><p>“You’d start here,” the man said. “We require it for the first six months. But someone like you, miss? After that, probably anywhere you want.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami walked the entire way back to the hotel. She was too tired to run, and the man in the career center had given her a thick folder of information to take back with her. That was okay. She had a lot to think about, and it seemed like the exercise had at least helped clear her head.</p><p>She realized that Lin Beifong had been right. She had plenty of resources, and with enough grit and determination she probably could do anything. It was time to start acting like it. It turned out that the biggest lie she’d told herself was that her challenge was getting the life she wanted, and not understanding what that was in the first place. At the end of the day, Asami was an engineer, a problem-solver. Starting with the right problem could make all the difference.</p><p>As she walked, she made a list of the things that she knew she needed to do. First, Future Industries. It was her company now, or as good as, and everyone expected her to step up and run it. But was running a business what she really wanted? The more Asami thought about it, the more she realized that she’d taken succeeding her father as president as a given. She’d spent so much time being congratulated or asked questions about what she’d do at the helm that she’d never stopped to consider that she didn’t have to take the job. Spirits, even her father had accused her of testifying so that she could take his company. But as Asami walked, she realized that it was still a choice.</p><p>It wasn’t a decision that she wanted to make lightly, either. Asami loved the factories themselves, and the process of designing, improving, and testing the mecha. She loved working with other engineers and, even more so, smart people from other disciplines who could bring new ideas to the table. But none of that necessarily meant she’d love the corporate side of things. All else aside, Hiroshi Sato had been a shrewd businessman. Asami had a sneaking suspicion that she was more your garden variety geek. It wasn’t that she doubted she could do the job. It was whether or not that was at all what she wanted.</p><p>So, first on her list was to call the chairman of the board and work with him to appoint an interim president. Asami wanted someone good, too, not just a warm body. It was going to be a tough time for the company, made all the tougher by her father’s upcoming trial. Future Industries, and everyone who worked there, needed the benefit of a sound mind and steady hand. And if it turned out that Asami didn’t want the role, it would make sense to have an interim who had long-term potential. </p><p>Next, the estate. She didn’t want to live there. She knew that now. It might have every amenity imaginable, but it was still the house where her mother had been murdered and her father had plotted to overthrow the government, and Asami wanted nothing to do with it. She didn’t know where she <em> would </em>live, not yet, and wasn’t quite ready to sell, but perhaps something else could be done in the meantime. So, call a real estate agent and discuss her options for letting it. There were also a few things, like her motorbike, that it would be useful to get. She might not want to go home, but she was no longer afraid of it.</p><p>At the same time, Asami also resolved to get a lead on potential workspace. Ideally something month to month down in the Industrial District with at least some shared equipment in case her plans changed. It would be a good way to get out of the hotel, or wherever she wound up, and having a project or two couldn’t hurt, either. Maybe she’d even meet some interesting new people that way. People who hadn’t gone to the academy or gotten 5** in math, but who brought new things, other skills and perspectives. People like Mako and Bolin, who were a different kind of smart, or maybe even people like Korra, who weren’t even from the United Republic at all but snorted when they laughed and had taught her about seaweed noodles and polar bear dogs and what it meant to never give up. Or like Iroh. Someone who would set himself on fire if it meant helping others, who could survive chaos and near-certain death and yet still see wonder and beauty in a mud-filled hole in the ground. There was no way to know, of course. But that wasn’t a reason not to try. Asami was tired of eating alone.</p><p>Then she’d get a haircut.</p><p>It wasn’t a new life, not really. But as Asami rounded the corner that led to the Grand Republic, it felt like a start. Besides, she still had the stack of pamphlets and materials that the huge recruiter had given her earlier. With no solid plans for the rest of the day besides her to-do list, some of which would have to wait for Monday anyway, she’d have plenty of time to go through them. It would mean a big change, but then again, if that turned out to be what she really wanted, what was stopping her? </p><p>Asami pushed open the big brass doors and crossed the lobby, suddenly exhausted. It was almost as if her bed being in range had set off some sort of beacon. <em> Come nap, </em> it said. <em> Here I am. </em>After a shower she thought she just might listen to it. </p><p>“Miss!” came a voice from her right. “Miss?” Asami looked to see a young man waving at her from behind the reception counter. She changed course and walked slowly over, oddly conscious that she probably smelled. </p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Miss Sato, right? In 1241?”</p><p>Asami had a momentary pang of regret. She’d used her real name for the new room, of course, but that didn’t mean she was in the mood for visitors, let alone press. She sighed. No point in denying it now. “That’s me.”</p><p>“Message for you, ma’am,” he said. He rummaged behind the desk and handed her a folded slip of paper. </p><p>“Thanks.” At least it wasn’t a reporter. Asami’s heart sped up as she unfolded the paper. A small, wild part of her hoped that it was Iroh. Had he sent a message from the ship? But that was crazy. He’d only just left, and they had both been perfectly clear that there was now nothing between them. Iroh hadn’t asked her to write and neither had she. She respected him too much to think he’d gone back on that already.</p><p>It wasn’t Iroh. Instead, the note contained only four words:</p><p>
  <em> Call me ASAP. -Tenzin </em>
</p><p>Asami frowned. What would Tenzin want that was so urgent? She could only think of one thing. He and Lin Beifong went way back, right? If she’d told him about her and Iroh, he would almost certainly have an opinion. And what if he’d in turn told Firelord Izumi? Iroh’s mother had been none too happy to discover a woman in her son’s room, and from what he had said might still be angry about his breaking it off with his previous girlfriend. Suddenly, Asami was furious. What business was it of hers, or Tenzin’s, or Lin Beifong’s, or anyone else’s? Wasn’t it already hard enough for both of them? Couldn’t they have a week? One damned night? She hadn’t ruined Iroh’s life, or spoiled him for his future bride. All she’d done was love him a little.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Asami fumed all the way up the elevator. She wasn’t going to be polite this time. She was going to give that bald old windbag a piece of her mind. It was as much for Iroh as it was for herself. If he was ever going to be as happy as he deserved, he couldn’t have the Firelord and her network of spies always reporting back on who he was with and why. But it was hard to stand up to your family. Spirits, Asami knew that better than most. She thought of how Iroh had held her hand during the hearing, the encouraging smile he’d given her every time she needed it. The way he’d yelled at someone he liked and respected about how she was being treated. Well, perhaps it was time she did the same for him.</p><p>As soon as Asami got back to her room she stalked over to the single desk and picked up the telephone. She tossed the materials from the career center on the coffee table behind her, then angrily punched in the number for the main house at Air Temple Island. She’d called Korra there enough she didn’t even have to look it up. </p><p>Korra herself picked up. “Hello?”</p><p>“Hey, it’s Asami.” She tried to keep her voice calm. There was no cause to snap at Korra, and she didn’t want to do any inadvertent damage to their fragile relationship by being short.</p><p>“Oh!” There was a brief pause. “I’m glad you finally called back. It’s been super weird here.”</p><p>There was a soft knock at the door. Asami ignored it. She was too angry at Tenzin, and besides he’d said ASAP. And Korra had said things had been weird. There was always a chance that his message wasn’t a lecture about her and Iroh at all, but that something else had happened. Whatever it was, it was important. Asami didn’t have time for housekeeping.</p><p>“Weird how?” she asked. “Tenzin said to call him right back. What’s going on?”</p><p>The knock sounded again. Asami huffed. <em> Really. </em> </p><p>“I think he’d better tell you himself,” Korra said. She sounded evasive. “Everyone’s fine though. He just… I’m staying out of this one. I’ll go get him.”</p><p>Asami heard the unmistakable thump of a receiver being set down. There was no yelling, either. Tenzin must be far enough away that he required fetching. What on earth was going on? There wasn’t much that Korra ever wanted to stay out of; usually it was quite the opposite. </p><p>Asami gently set the telephone down. At least she could use the time to tell housekeeping that she was on the phone and they should come back later. It wouldn’t do to get mad, it wasn’t their fault, but she wasn’t in the mood for any interruptions. Maybe they’d even have one of those little “do not disturb” signs she could use.</p><p>As she crossed the room Asami prepared her speech, something polite but firm. So it was that when she opened the door, she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking at. There was a man sitting on the floor. He was wearing gray slacks and a white shirt, his black hair sticking up a bit in the back where he must have been leaning against the wall. A dark duffel bag rested against his shoulder. On the floor by the duffel bag sat a tubby metal fire ferret. </p><p>The man jerked his head up at the sound of the door, obviously just as surprised as she was. Iroh’s golden eyes stared back at her.</p><p>“Oh. Hi.” He hopped to his feet. “I didn’t think you were in.” The duffel bag flopped over with a soft thud.</p><p>“Iroh, what are you doing here?” Asami was too stunned to move. He was gone. She knew he was, she’d watched him leave. “Your ship, I thought—”</p><p>“It went. I didn’t.”</p><p>“But—”</p><p>“I resigned,” Iroh said quickly. Asami just blinked at him. The words didn’t make any sense. <em> Resigned? </em> He ran his hand through his dark hair and gave her an awkward smile. “Birthday. It was my birthday. The officer commission is seven years. I joined up the day I turned 17. It’s exactly… I mean, I didn’t really resign, not yet, I’m technically on leave because it takes time to process and at my level it isn’t going to be easy. But I finally can. I typed up the letter.” He patted his pocket. “I have it right here. It took me all yesterday. There were nine drafts, I wanted to get it right, but I’d had a lot to drink at that point, and… and I know you wanted a new life so I didn’t want to assume anything or… get in the way of… but you said you wished things were different so I wanted to see if maybe… maybe you might want Iroh the Completely Ordinary and his mecha pet, Hori? As part of your plan, not the main thing, or… ” Iroh trailed off, his smile fading slightly. He sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”</p><p>Asami flung herself at him. Iroh caught her as she wrapped herself around him, arms behind his neck, legs hooked around his waist. The force of it knocked him backwards and he almost tripped over his bag. One hand shot out to quickly brace against the wall. Then he grabbed her, squeezing her hard, crushing her in his arms, holding her up like she weighed nothing at all. Asami pressed her face into his neck, inhaling him, all fresh soap and hair oil, and then she was kissing him, kissing him with everything she had, and <em> yes </em> was on the tip of her tongue, <em> yes </em> was on her lips, and <em> yes, yes, yes. </em></p><p>“I can’t do this, Asami,” Iroh said, breathless. “I can’t know this is here, that you’re here, and still choose something else.” </p><p>Asami said nothing at all. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“I should at least shower.” She gave him a gentle kiss. They were on the couch now, Iroh more or less stretched out beneath her. They’d finally slowed down a little, at least enough to catch their breath. </p><p>Iroh let her mouth go, somewhat reluctantly she thought. “Because I’ve never worked out with you, and I’m obviously repelled.” He leaned up to kiss her again.</p><p>“I’m serious,” Asami said. “I’m all sweaty and gross.” </p><p>“Then catch me up,” he mumbled against her mouth. </p><p>Asami laughed and pulled away. “You’re terrible. Come on. I’ll feel better.” </p><p>Iroh pretended to pout, but his eyes were smiling. “All right. But if you take too long I’m coming in after you.”</p><p>Asami thought that sounded just fine. </p><p>It didn’t take long however. When she came out of the bedroom Iroh was sitting up on the couch. Spread out before him was the information she’d gotten from the recruiter that morning. She’d forgotten she’d dumped it all on the coffee table.</p><p><em> Oh. </em> </p><p>“Asami?” Iroh asked slowly. He turned to look at her, a faint frown on his face. “What’s all this?”</p><p>She tried to sound casual. “Just some information I got this morning. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want to do next, and where, and it turns out that checks a lot of the boxes.”</p><p>“But Asami… but this is… you can’t be serious?”</p><p>She dropped next to him on the couch. His eyes were wide with shock. “It’s not so crazy,” she said. “I’d get to focus on things that interest me while learning some new skills. It’s a clean break from a lot of my baggage here, no one would even know me, and I think I have a lot to offer. I could do some good without it being, you know, necessarily Avatar stuff. The man at the career center said there’s always a need for engineers, and especially ones who aren’t afraid of a fight.”</p><p>Suddenly Iroh laughed. He reached out and pulled her into a quick kiss. “No, you certainly aren’t,” he said. “But enlisting? Are you sure? I love the UF, but it's not for everyone.”</p><p>Asami shook her head. “No, I'm not sure. Today was only the first conversation. Technically, with my skills it would be a commission though. Second lieutenant. I hear they, um, can live on the battleships sometimes. Not that that’s a reason to do it. But I’ve hardly seen any of the world and if maybe there was someone else on the ship, too, he could tell me a bit about the buildings. If he wanted to.”</p><p>Iroh beamed at her. “So I quit the United Forces and you want to join?”</p><p>She grinned. “Maybe we both refused to take no for an answer.”</p><p>“So what are we going to do?”</p><p>“We could both go be pirates?”</p><p>Iroh chuckled. “I’m serious.”</p><p>She shrugged a little. “I don’t know. I don’t want to rush into anything. I have a lot to work on, and work out. But I do know a few things. I want to be one of the good guys, I want to use my brain, and I want to be with you. The United Forces is one way to do that, but it’s not the only one. So let’s figure it out together.”</p><p>Suddenly Iroh tackled her to the couch. Asami squealed and giggled as he started kissing her face, planting swift kisses on her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids. “You,” he breathed, “are the most amazing person I have ever met.”</p><p>Asami laughed and tried to push him away. “Or the craziest. So what happened yesterday? Did you really resign?”</p><p>Iroh smiled down at her, then dropped his arm and slid in between her and the back of the couch. Asami settled down against chest as he stroked her hair. “I didn’t get four blocks before I realized I’d made a mistake,” he said. “So I did what any decorated general would do. I panicked. Leaving was suddenly unthinkable, not if there was any chance with you at all, but I couldn’t just abandon my post. I’d be AWOL. You go to jail for that, general or no.”</p><p>“What did you do?”</p><p>“I wound up at Tenzin’s,” he said. “I didn’t know what else to do, or where to go. I report directly to the council, the whole United Forces does, but I don’t think I thought of that. He was simply the only other person in Republic City who I knew there they lived. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to tell him until it was all spilling out, how I’d met somebody incredible and couldn’t deploy and that the council could throw me in prison before I’d go. I didn’t mention your name, I knew better than that, but he’s not stupid. There weren’t a lot of other people I’d been spending my time with.”</p><p>“Was he angry? He did tell me to stay away from you.”</p><p>“He <em> what?” </em> Iroh sat up a bit suddenly, propping his elbows under him. “Tenzin?”</p><p>Asami looked up at him and nodded. “At the gala. That’s what he took me outside to talk about. He said that you took things seriously, and that you didn’t need me in your life right now. That’s why I said I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t being completely honest, or was maybe only lying to myself, but I also didn’t want to hurt you.” </p><p>Iroh sagged back into the couch, then stared at the ceiling. He huffed a little. “I’m going to kill him. Here’s this woman, she practically falls in my lap, and she’s fun and fierce and brilliant and gorgeous, and we were getting along so well I almost couldn’t believe it. Then we had that dance and it felt like whatever had been smoldering since Saturday just caught fire.” Iroh shook his head. “I’d just about worked up the courage to tell you when I heard you didn’t want me at all. I was like I’d been punched in the stomach.”</p><p>“Wait,” Asami said, startled. “Since Saturday?” </p><p>To her surprise, Iroh blushed. “Um. I may have lied a little when I told you nothing happened. That night. You, um, kind of kissed me. And I liked it. I didn’t let you do anything else, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it anyway. Then you turned out to be… you… and it only got worse from there.”</p><p>Asami met his eyes. “It’s okay. I lied, too. I’m very, very interested in General Iroh. And Ordinary Iroh.”</p><p>He glanced down at them snuggled together on the couch and laughed a little. “Good. This would be a rather awkward position if you weren’t.”</p><p>“So you told Tenzin?”</p><p>Iroh nodded. “He was actually great. He made a few calls and made it clear I was taking a short leave of absence so I wouldn’t get arrested. The fleet was put under Bumi for the time being, and the command ship will join him in a few days. While he was doing that, I proceeded to drink all of his scotch. By the time Tenzin finally got off the phone I was reeling. I think I scared him, to be honest. Korra, too. I’d been trying to write up my resignation, but it didn’t make any sense, and I was flinging papers all over. He made me go lie down and sleep it off. That’s why I didn’t come back until today.”</p><p>“That must be why Korra—” Asami cut off. The telephone! She’d put it down to answer the door while Korra got Tenzin and had then completely forgotten about it. She jumped up and ran over to the desk, then scooped up the receiver. Of course the line was dead. It had been an hour at least. Asami dropped it back in the cradle. Two seconds later, it rang.</p><p>“Tenzin? I’m so sorry, I—”</p><p>“No,” said a cold voice. “This isn’t Tenzin. Is my son by any chance in your room, Miss Sato?” </p><p>Asami felt herself shrink. She recognized that voice. “So what if he is?” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. </p><p>“I would like to speak to him. <em> Now.” </em></p><p>Asami looked back at Iroh, propped up on the couch, his brows knit together with worry. She realized they hadn't talked about the Fire Nation at all, or what his family might think. And she suddenly saw the enormity of what he'd really done for her. He wasn't just a general, he was a prince as well, the son of the Firelord. There could be huge consequences if he went against his family's wishes. If he couldn't convince them, they might even cut him off entirely. Asami stiffened a little. If Iroh was going to stand up to them, he had to start now. And he wouldn't be doing it alone. She wasn't going to hide, either. </p><p>“Iroh is too busy being kissed right now,” she said crisply. “He’s rather tall, so there’s a lot of him. It might take a while to kiss him thoroughly everywhere. He’ll call you later though.” Then she hung up. Asami smiled a little and pulled the receiver off the hook to set it on the desk.</p><p>She turned back to see Iroh, face scarlet, his eyebrows somewhere up around his hairline. “Did you… just… was that… ?” he stuttered. </p><p>Asami's smile widened. “What, Iroh? I said I’m done lying.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The taxi pulled up outside the black iron gates. Asami got out and punched in the code. There were no more reporters now. She bit back a laugh. From what Jin-Woo had said, they were missing a story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cab trundled up the drive. Iroh pressed his face up against the window, a small smile playing on the corner of his lips. “Your parents must like the Fire Nation,” he said. Asami looked at him, puzzled. He nodded to the house. “The building style. It looks a lot like where I grew up. The roof especially. Those overhangs have to be three or four feet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asami smiled at him. She’d never brought anyone to the estate and had their first comment be on the style of roofing. Nerd, indeed. “I told you my father was an improver. I don’t think he’d admit borrowing anything from the Fire Nation, but I can’t say I’m surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The driver pulled to a stop in front of the giant entrance. He immediately got out and pulled Iroh’s duffel, Asami’s suitcase, and the bag containing her ball gown from the trunk. Iroh shifted Hori under his other arm and took the latter so it wouldn’t drag on the ground while Asami dug a couple of yuans from her wallet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, this is me,” she said as the taxi pulled away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iroh put the mecha ferret down on top of his bag and came to stand next to her. “Are you sure you want to be here?” he asked. He wrapped the arm not holding her ball gown around her waist. “I don’t mind staying in a hotel, honest. It won’t be the penthouse, but I’ll manage just fine.” He laughed a little. “You should see the quarters on a battleship. Not to turn you off the Forces, but they’re about the size of a closet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asami shook her head. “No, I’m not sure. But it’s not forever, and we can always leave if it’s too much. And there’s so much space. We have 29 rooms, Iroh. It’s a shame not to use them while we figure things out. Especially if we both wind up in a battleship closet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iroh gave her waist a squeeze. “All right, then.” He dropped his arm, picked up Hori, then hoisted his duffel bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asami pushed open the door. The familiar scent of the hallway hit her like an old friend, a little musty perhaps, but not unwelcome. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I can do this. I can do this.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Do I get to pick my bedroom?” Iroh asked from behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asami smirked. “No. Only one of them is available, I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No room at the inn,” he said, following her into the hallway. “I see. Shame. Is the available bedroom by any chance shared?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is. How do you feel about roommates?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned to see Iroh grinning. “My roommate feels pretty good last I checked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up. Don’t make me put you in the storage shed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Asami looked Iroh pointedly up and down. “No. I have better uses for you,” she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed and hung her ball gown from one of the coat hooks. Then he set Hori down on the floor. Iroh toggled the switch on his belly and the mecha shuddered to life. One leg rolled forward, then another. The tail began to spin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yip!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right,” Iroh said. “Welcome home, Hori.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, the house didn’t feel quite so lonely anymore. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy New Years, everybody. May your 2021 read like your favorite happy fic.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Apparently, in the original plan for Legend of Korra, Asami Sato joins the United Forces at the end of Season 1. While I'm glad that the show got more seasons and we got to see a lot more of Asami kicking ass and forming new relationships, I was always a little sad about losing that other future for her. But most fics I've read with this plotline have her more or less broken and running away, which I didn't think fit her character. So, this is my stab at how she might have made that choice, and why. And if it gives General Iroh a happy ending, too, I'm all for it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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